


Friends in Dark Places [Remastered]

by ilovemygaydad



Series: friends in dark places [rewritten] [1]
Category: Sander Sides, Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: M/M, Multi, high school!au, insurance fraud is committed and no one cares, major angst, no one in this au is neurotypical okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 33,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovemygaydad/pseuds/ilovemygaydad
Summary: summary: After struggling with suicidal ideation and loneliness for years, a teen decides it’s time for it all to end… that is, until someone tries to save him.warnings: these are based per chapter but this story deals with heavy themes of bullying, suicide, self harm, depression, sexual assault, being transgender, and many other things. PLEASE heed the warnings because things get intense real fast.





	1. nobody likes a narc

**Author's Note:**

> i have no explanation for myself
> 
> actually, i do. so here’s the thing: this is not a new fic of mine. in fact, you can find it posted here. however, i stopped writing it last january when i lost literally all creative motivation, and then realized that, hey, this fic is one of the first ones i ever wrote, and it’s pretty shit from a grammar perspective. i was going to rewrite it last summer, but the whole no-creativity-thing that I was going through ended up ruining that plan. so now i’m forcing myself to do this. 
> 
> i am so sorry
> 
> (title of this chapter comes from BDG's unraveled episode on mega man because, truly, nobody likes a narc)

He was  _done_. Just… done with the world. He was sick of having no friends and  having to eat lunch in the gross, discarded janitor’s closet because literally nobody wanted him to sit at their table. He hated that he was so much of a loner the teachers had given up on trying to get him to join groups for projects and just let him do them alone. He had nobody to talk to--nobody to console with. To everyone else, he was simply “that weird emo kid” that they whispered about in the hallways.

His family didn’t even care about him. Dad was out of the country most of the time and mom was just… not there. He didn’t really ask, just took care of himself and buying groceries with the credit card his dad had given him for when he was home alone.

He had kept up the act for over two years, but he just couldn’t do it anymore. Why should he act if nobody was paying attention to him anyway? There were exactly zero people would miss him; no one would grieve his death. 

Which is how, on the night of his 17th birthday, Virgil ended up standing on the railing of a bridge with the river far below him, merely contemplating when to jump. His thoughts were going so fast he didn’t realize someone had walked up behind him.

“Um… Hello? Please don’t jump…” a voice behind Virgil said softly. Virgil whipped around, provably far faster than he should, and glared at the stranger.

“What are you doing here?!” Virgil growled. The stranger was dressed very cleanly, with a pair of nice jeans, a light grey cardigan, and a light blue polo shirt. Their hair was combed back neatly and they had a pair of glasses perched on their nose. They were probably right around the same age as Virgil.

“Um, I, uh, was just walking by and happened to see you here. I don’t want you to jump,” the stranger responded. Virgil couldn’t help but simply gawk at them. This person didn’t even know him--had no clue if he was dangerous or what he was like--yet stopped his walk in some weird-ass attempt to persuade him not to jump off of the bridge.

“Look,” Virgil snapped. “You have no idea who I am, and I have no idea who you are. You don’t know my intentions, so just go away and leave me here alone.” Was he being harsh to this kid? Yeah. Did that really matter? No. He really just wanted to make sure that this stranger wasn’t going to talk him off of the edge. He was here, and he was going to make sure that he would go through with this.

And then the stranger began to cry. Like, bawling. Just standing in the middle of the sidewalk at almost midnight and sobbing while an emo kid with intense suicidal ideation was standing on the edge of death.

“What are you doing? Stop that. You’re being fucking loud! People are going to start trying to find out what’s happening can you—Fucking  _hell_.” Virgil jumped off of the railing, fully intending to just get things over with as soon as this stranger had left. “Look. I’m off the ledge. Just stop fucking crying.” The stranger looked up and gave him a look that conveyed both extreme sadness and anger.

“Promise that you won’t jump off the bridge.” The stranger’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“Yeah, whatever. I won’t jump off.” Virgil gave a dramatic eye roll and crossed his arms. Hopefully the stranger would take that as being good enough and just  _leave_  already.

“No, I said to  _promise_  me!” The stranger was nearly yelling now, face stern.

“I—What? Listen—“ Virgil was cut off swiftly.

“Promise me! Promise me that you won’t kill yourself tonight! I don’t care what your reasoning is for doing this, but it’s not good enough! Promise me or I’m going to call the cops and tell them you’re trying to commit suicide, and I  _know_  that you don’t want the authorities involved.” Virgil took a step back, shocked at the intensity of the stranger’s voice. Nobody had ever cared so much about him, not even his past friends. The stranger whipped out their phone to show how serious they were. Virgil began to panic, both from the strange feelings and the stress of the situation.

“I--okay, look--I promise I won’t kill myself tonight just please put the phone down. Please, don’t call the police. I promise; I won’t do anything.” All he could hear at this point was the blood rushing in his ears, pounding faster and faster with each second. His breathing was coming at a probably unhealthy speed and he could feel himself shaking.

He barely processed when the stranger put the phone to their ear and called someone. Virgil reached out to stop them but only made it about a foot before he collapsed right into the stranger’s arms, unconscious.


	2. i'm not okay (i promise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, crying, anger, shouting, self harm, blood, fainting, panic attacks, depression, cliff hanger ending, food mentions, graphic scenery and lots of angst, and possibly something else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be extremely careful when reading this chapter. it is in no way a light story, and this can be extremely triggering for a lot of people. please feel free to ask if you need a light summary of what happens in this chapter (or any of the others!)
> 
> (title is from the mcr song)

Virgil rubbed his eyes harshly, not caring about smearing his makeup. He slowly opened his eyes and caught sight of a person at the end of the bed he was laying in. A bed that  _definitely_  was not his.

“What the  _fuck_?!” Virgil yelled, scrambling out of the bed and as far from the person he could possibly get. The stranger looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d seen them before. His thoughts and memories were all jumbled from sleepiness, and pulling one distinct face was nearly impossible.

“Phew! For a little while there, I was pretty worried that you weren’t going to wake up. Do you remember what happened last night, kiddo?” Virgil’s memories of the previous night practically slapped him in the face with how quickly they’d rushed back. He’d gone out to... Well, he’d gone out with the sole intention to kill himself. Then, while contemplating the inevitable like the when this stranger came by and persuaded him that he shouldn’t jump, partially by threatening to call the police. And then he’d had a panic attack because the situation had become far too intense, and after that… He supposed that he must’ve passed out, but he couldn’t remember.

He relayed that information back to the stranger adding, “You scared the fucking  _shit_  out of me.” The stranger nodded solemnly, obviously not happy with having upset Virgil the night before.

“I called my mom to come pick us up, saying that we’d both been walking in the same direction and you’d passed out. I didn’t really want to lie, but I knew that you would want as little attention brought to your suicide attempt as you could. And, since I guess you would like to know whose house you’re in, I’m Patton. Patton Shea. And you are?” Patton gave him an encouraging look.

“I’m, uh… I’m Virgil Thomas. He/him pronouns.” Virgil added the last part purely out of habit from being online. Patton nodded thoughtfully.

“I guess I use he/him pronouns as well. I’ve never thought to add them when I introduce myself, but it definitely sounds good in practice,” he said with a small tilt of his head. “Well! You must be starving! It’s nearly noon; would you like some breakfast? I can quickly reheat some leftover pancakes and make some more!” Patton stood up and walked toward the door of his bedroom. Virgil was still standing in the corner, thoroughly confused and feeling distressed. After his initial panic had faded, he’d realized that at some point after he’d passed out, Patton had taken his hoodie off of him.

“Um, Patton? Can I have my hoodie back?” Virgil asked softly just before the other boy had reached the door. Patton turned around and gave him a big smile.

“Of course! I can’t believe I forgot. It’s in the bathroom right over there with some more comfortable clothes than skinny jeans if you’d like to change.” He pointed at a door to Virgil’s left that Virgil assumed led to an en-suite bathroom.  _Fancy_ , he thought with a bitter sarcasm.

“I’m gonna go get your breakfast ready, so take your time getting yourself situated,” Patton said with a sunny smile. Virgil nodded and watched the other leave the room. He let out a long breath that he hadn’t even realized he was holding. He made his way into the bathroom. The second he’d locked the door, he sank to the ground and put his head in his hands.

He felt so  _guilty_. He was imposing himself onto this person that he’d never met before--not to mention his  _entire_  family--and had caused mental distress to him as well. He shouldn’t have stood on that ledge for so long; he should have just climbed up and jumped immediately. And now Patton ended up paying the repercussions of innocently walking by when a depressed kid was on the brink of death. Virgil felt the tears start to stream down his face. Why did he always fuck things up?

Virgil had no clue how long he’d been sitting on the floor of Patton’s bathroom in the middle of a breakdown before he’d heard a light knock on the other side of the door.

“Virge--gosh, is it okay if I call you that--are you okay? It sounds like you’re crying. Can I come in?” Patton’s voice was laced with genuine concern and understanding. Quickly swiping the back of his hand over his eyes and nose, he stood up and glanced worriedly at the door.

“Um, I’m fine, Patton. Don’t worry about it. Really,” Virgil replied, probably with too much enthusiasm. He crossed his fingers that Patton would just go away, and after a few seconds, he heard a sigh from the opposite side of the door.

“Okay, well, if you need to talk, I’m here. Your breakfast is ready, so come down when you’re done.” Virgil gave a quick okay and actually set to get himself cleaned up. He felt gross as hell. Patton’s footsteps could be heard walking away, and Virgil rushed to ask something.

“Hey, Patton? Is it okay if I take a shower?” Patton’s footsteps came to a halt.

“Of course, Virgil! There are towels under the sink.” The footsteps continued, and the bedroom door made a soft click as it closed. Virgil pulled two towels out from where Patton had told him they’d be and turned on the shower. It took him a few minutes to figure it out (he had to turn it to adjust the temperature and pull the knob out to turn on the water) and accidentally soaked his shirt in the process.

He took a quick shower and dried off. Unfortunately, some of the water from his shirt had soaked into his jeans and he was forced to wear the light blue checkered pajama pants and disgustingly bright green shirt. He zipped up his sweatshirt in an attempt to mask most of the color. Virgil took the edge of the towel he’d used to dry off his hair and washed off the remaining smudges of black makeup from under his eyes and brushed his hair out of his face with his fingers. He looked oddly…  _normal_.

Once he was absolutely sure any signs of him having cried had disappeared, Virgil left Patton’s room and went down the set of stairs to his left. Overall, the house had a very clean yet familial aura, and it gave Virgil an odd sense of calm and happiness.

“Patton? Where’s the kitchen?” Virgil called out. The place was huge. There were three hallways that branched from the bottom of the stairs and each had at least one other hallway branching off of that one.

“Go left and then go through the first doorway on the left!” Patton shouted back. The instructions were easy enough, and the confused teen found himself in a spacious kitchen with pristine, cream-colored cabinets and pink marble countertops. Patton was standing at the counter with the largest stack of pancakes Virgil had ever seen in his whole seventeen years of life.

“Are all of those pancakes for me?” Virgil could only imagine the confused and astounded look that was on his face.

“Well, if you want them all, you’re free to have them. I didn’t know how many you’d want, so I made more than enough.” There was a bright smile on Patton’s face, as if he’d fulfilled his life’s purpose by making at least thirty pancakes. He looked truly radiant in his flour-covered t-shirt and jeans. 

Virgil couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Patton. I don’t eat a lot of pancakes, usually, but I appreciate the sentiment.” He walked to the small table in the center of the room and sat down where a sole was a plate set up. Patton carefully carried the giant plate of pancakes to the table and set them near his guest. Virgil took three pancakes to start and began to eat them plain. He didn’t want to use up anything more than he had to.

“Are you sure you don’t want any syrup on your pancakes? They’ll probably taste better if you put some on…” Virgil looked up to see a confused, but not malicious, look on Patton’s face.

“No, it’s fine. I’m used to eating plain pancakes.” The teen gave a reassuring smile and hoped he was convincing enough. The other seemed to take that as a good enough answer and began asking about Virgil’s life.

“So, Verge, how old are you?” Patton still had a smile on his face as if he was truly enjoying the company. 

“I, uh, turned seventeen yesterday…” Virgil cringed at the thought of his host realizing he’d tried to kill himself on his birthday.

“Oh! I just turned seventeen yesterday as well! As did two of my friends. They’re super nice; I think you’d like them.” Where Patton had gathered any information as to what kind of people Virgil would enjoy spending time with was a mystery, but Virgil politely nodded. “Do you go to Westview High School?”

“Yeah.” Virgil didn’t see any use in lying to Patton. Eventually their paths would have crossed at school, and that would’ve been a  _really_  awkward to have to explain.

Patton furrowed his brows, obviously trying to think of at least one time that he’d seen Virgil around school. “I’m surprised I’ve never seen you around before!” 

“I keep to the shadows most of the time. It’s really not a big deal.” He’d finished his pancakes and was reaching for another one.

“You should hang out with my friends and I at school sometime. Which reminds me, I’ve already called myself in sick, so I should do the same for you. Your last name was Thomas, right?” Patton stood up and walked over to the cell phone laying on the counter. It was in a light blue case with dog stickers on it, which seemed to fit Patton’s happy-go-lucky persona perfectly.

“Yup.” Virgil continued to eat his pancake while Patton made the phone call. He seemed to be making jokes with the secretary, which was extremely surprising since she was notorious for being mean.

“Okie dokie! You’re excused from school today. Now, I know we’ve been talking about some pretty light topics, but I think we should talk about something important.” The hoodie-clad teen shrunk back.  _Oh no…_

“Patton, it’s fine. I’m fine. I was just feeling really upset yesterday and was about to do something rash. It was a one-time thing…” Virgil didn’t even sound convincing to himself. He slouched forward, discarding his pancake on his plate and settling his head in his hands.

“Virge, I know that I’ve only known you for less than a day, but I know good people when I see them. You deserve to live--”

“How do you know?!” Virgil snapped. “You know barely anything about me. For all you know, I could be a criminal in need of psychiatric help!” His voice was a knife through Patton’s soft, kind words. There was no longer any happiness on Patton’s face.

“I… I…” Patton looked like he was a second away from crying.

“You should have just left me to die. I’m worthless, and you know it. Now leave me the fuck alone.” Virgil aggressively shoved his chair back and walked from the room. His feet carried him up the stairs and into Patton’s bathroom. He immediately locked the door and collapsed. What he’d done was wrong and he knew that, but he was sick of Patton’s faux empathy.

Patton’s muffled voice carried through the bathroom door, but it was barely registered. “Yes, Logan. Yes, I did try to talk to him about staying with me, but he wouldn’t let me get my words in. Mhmm. He locked himself in the bathroom; I’m going to try and get him to come out.” There was a knock. “Virgil? Kiddo, are you okay?” Tears were streaming down Virgil’s face as he stood up and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was  _pathetic_. He couldn’t even kill himself correctly; he wasn’t able to do the obviously right thing. The teen pulled his fist back and sent it flying into the mirror.

_CRASH!_

Glass rained onto the counter with the sound of a thousand tiny bells. Virgil looked down to see red streaming from his knuckles, but he honestly didn’t care.

“Virgil?! What happened? Are you okay?” Patton sounded frantic. “Logan, get Roman. I need you both to come here and help me. Right now. Yes, just--get here.”

Verge picked up one of the larger shards of glass and examined it in his hands. It was beautiful, a jagged piece of crystal catching the light at just the right angles. He squeezed the shard, feeling it cut into the soft flesh of his hands. The teenager gently placed the red glass onto the pristine white countertop and ran a hand through his hair. He was starting to become dizzy. He picked up another mirror shard and cut it into his forearm multiple times. A wave of calm washed over his racing mind.

“Please let me in, buddy. I’m not trying to hurt you!”

The teen in the bathroom fell to the floor, unable to hold himself up with how dizzy he was.

A few sets of footsteps pounded nearby, and Patton’s voice was a bit softer. “I think he broke the mirror. I don’t want him hurting himself. He’s in a very dark place. Help me break the door open.” A series of bangs erupted in the small space where Virgil was. He curled in on himself, not wanting to have to deal with the world anymore.

A loud crack rang out as three figures bursted through the door. They froze and stared at Virgil, laying on the bath mat covered in blood and crying. Virgil hazily registered that Patton had made a choked noise in the doorway.

“Patton, I know this is hard for you, but I need you to go grab gauze rolls from the medicine cabinet. Roman, help me drag him onto the bed,” a calm voice instructed. Virgil felt two sets of hands grab him and pull him to the bed, gently laying him onto the plush covers. Something was then being wrapped around his hands and forearms.

“Thanks, Pat. Roman I need you to get the car started up and clear out a space in the back for Virgil to lay down.” The edges of Virgil’s vision had become shrouded in misty black, so he wasn’t able to make out any of the figures around him.

“Virgil? I’m going to carry you now. Please do not be alarmed,” the calm voice said. Virgil gave a weak nod as he was scooped into a pair of steady arms. The teen allowed himself to doze off as he was carted into an unfamiliar car for the second time in twenty-four hours.


	3. unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of self harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of scars, mentions of throwing up, food mentions, mentions of pain, hospitals, ivs, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, swearing, a knife, blood, insensitive language regarding mental illness, possibly something else

The first thought that popped into Virgil’s mind when he woke up was that it was far too bright. He squinted, trying to make out  _something_. A dull, throbbing pain coursed through his wrists, and he groaned at the memories. Patton was going to give him so much shit.

It didn’t take too long for Virgil’s eyes to get adjusted to the bright lights. He was in a hospital room, and everything except for his blue smock was bright, clinical white. There wasn’t anyone else in the room with him--for the time being, at least--but a light blue backpack had been discarded on one of the chairs in the corner. Patton must have quickly thrown it together before they’d left.

The door slowly creaked open, and Virgil’s eyes snapped to the movement. Patton creeped through, only standing up straight once he’d realized that Virgil had woken up. A frown spread across his face as he moved to sit in the chair at Virgil’s right side.

“Virgil, you’re lucky that Logan and Roman had a free period today and were able to come get us to the hospital. What you did was very dangerous, though I’m sure that was your intention. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but obviously I did, and I’m  _so_  sorry about that. Still, we need to talk about your situation because you aren’t fit to be left on your own. I’m not going to force you into any situation you aren’t comfortable with, but I want to keep you safe.” Patton was speaking at a million miles an hour, barely comprehensible due to worry. Virgil shrugged and turned toward the only window in the room, watching the cars pass by on the road many stories below. In the back of his mind, he dreaded having to leave. He’d been in this hospital before on the rare occasion that a family member was dying, and from his memory, the local hospital only had elevators and emergency-only stairwells. Of course, Virgil was wildly afraid of elevators.

Patton was still talking when he tuned himself back in. “I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about your situation, so I cleared it with my parents, and we checked you in under my name and made sure that there would be complete confidentiality. You’ll be covered under my parent’s insurance, so you won’t have to pay for anything. They want to make sure you’re okay and are perfectly fine with this.” He knew that Patton was trying to be comforting, but it just made Virgil feel more guilty. He was taking  _so much_  from this family. They were committing fucking  _insurance fraud_  for him. 

Hot pinpricks formed in Virgil’s eyes. He tried his damnedest to will them away, but they began to slip down his face regardless.

“Hey! Virge, it’s okay. What’s wrong, kiddo?” Patton placed a light hand on top of Virgil’s arm, avoiding the tender spots where the bandages had been wrapped around him. Virgil forced himself to look at his companion. He hadn’t noticed before, but Patton had intense bags under his eyes, suggesting that he hadn’t slept at all during the night. His guilt only grew.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil whispered. “I’m so,  _so_  sorry that you have to deal with my depressed emo garbage. You don’t deserve this.”  He was a burden to everyone he met--merely bringing them down with him. There was no escape the sinking ship that was Virgil Thomas. Once you got on, it was hell on earth.

“Y’know,” Patton began. It was obvious that he was trying to pick his words out very carefully. “I’ve been in situations similar to yours. Although they weren’t nearly as intense, I’ve had great doubts about my self-worth. You really are a good person who deserves a good life, Virgil. I can just  _feel_  it. I really do want to help you, and I don’t care what I have to sacrifice to get you back on your feet. 

“All of that aside, we need to talk about your living situation. Do you have anybody at home who will be worrying your whereabouts?”  Patton laid expectant eyes on Virgil.

“Um, not really. My dad is almost always out of town, and my mom hasn’t been around for years.”

Patton nodded thoughtfully. “Alrighty then. Would you be okay with staying at my house for the foreseeable future? We would obviously have to grab your things from your house, but I’d feel better if you stayed with me. And I’m sure that you’ve seen that we have more than plenty of room for one other person.”

“I guess that’ll be okay.” Virgil’s voice was shaking slightly. He didn’t know whether he should be sad or happy. He was receiving so much kindness, yet he didn’t feel like he deserved it. His thoughts were interrupted when a nurse came into the room.

“Mr. Thomas? I need to ask Mr. Shea some questions. I’d ask that you leave the room… unless Mr. Shea is okay with you staying.” The nurse had a large smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes like Patton’s did.

“Um, I’d rather Pat--uh, Virgil stay in the room, if that’s all right.” Virgil gave her the best smile he could scrounge up, and she gave a curt nod, her brown hair swishing around her face. She took the seat on the opposite side of the bed from Patton.

“Mr. Shea, my name is Nurse Lucy. Do you remember what happened before you were admitted into the hospital?” Nurse Lucy pulled a pen from her pocket and began to write on the clipboard she’d had on the table next to her.

Truthfully, the events of the day had become fuzzy in Virgil’s mind. He could remember with clarity yelling at Patton and running to the bathroom. And then he punched the mirror and cut his knuckles, but after that? He had nothing.

“I don’t really remember anything…” Virgil’s face scrunched up just slightly in thought.

“Well, Mr. Shea, your friend with the tie told us you had a ‘severe panic attack,’ and Mr. Thomas followed up by saying you hurt yourself with ‘broken glass from a mirror’ and then passed out due to a mixture of blood loss and anxiety. Do you remember any of that happening?”

“I remember the panic attack and the mirror part; although, I remember the latter only vaguely.” The teen didn’t really like the direction that these questions were going. They were getting far too close to striking a nerve. As if he’d been reading the other’s thoughts, Patton piped up.

“Nurse Lucy, Vir--  _Patton_  has been through a lot today. How long do you think these questions will take?” Virgil sent a silent thanks to whatever deity that was watching over him.

“Just a few more minutes, Mr. Thomas,” the nurse replied with a saccharine smile. “Mr. Shea, have you had any bouts of depression within the past four months?”

“Yes,” Virgil answered.

“And how long did the depression last?”

“It started when I was fourteen and has been on and off for the past three years.” His hands began to shake.

“Have you had suicidal ideations or attempted suicide in the past four months?” The clinical tone of the nurse’s voice caused Virgil’s breath to hitch. Patton gave a small squeeze, reminding Virgil that he was still there.

“Yes. To both.”

“How long have you been having suicidal thoughts?”

“Since I turned sixteen.” He raised his left hand and ran it through his hair. He already knew the next question she was going to ask before she even opened her mouth.

“When was the last time you attempted to commit suicide?” Time seemed to freeze in the room. Virgil glanced over at Patton, who had a pained expression on his face. Lines of worry were etched across his fair skin, and his normal smile was pressed into a harsh frown.

“Today,” Virgil whispered. It was the truth, and he was sure Patton knew it regardless of if he wanted to believe it or not. He looked at his feet, refusing to let his gaze shift to either of the people at his sides.

“I see,” Nurse Lucy said with sterile crispness. “Since you were admitted due to injuries from a mental illness and have admitted to other mental instabilities, you will need to stay in the hospital for at least three days for further mental examination.” She stood up and smoothed out her pants.

“Um, Nurse, will I be allowed to stay during the exams?” Patton’s soft voice broke through the unrelenting silence.

“That depends on the doctor’s specifications. If you have any questions, I can leave his phone number here so you can discuss with him. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have another patient that I need to check up on.” Virgil could hear her clicking footsteps leave the room and the hollow thunk of the door closing.

“Virge, will you please look at me?” Patton asked with genuine sweetness in his voice, not the fake sugary bullshit that the nurse had given him. Virgil turned his head slowly. His breathing was becoming shallow, and he could feel a panic attack coming on.

“I need you to listen to me, okay? You are going to be  _okay_. I’m going to stay with you through all of it, even if the doctor wants me to leave.” A whole new wave of tears began to stream down Virgil’s face. This time, however, Patton climbed into the hospital bed, bringing his new friend into his arms, not caring about the tears that would end up staining his shirt. They stayed in that position, Virgil crying into Patton’s shoulder, until the former fell asleep.

* * *

 

“I don’t understand why we have to run errands for some kid that we barely even know!” Roman complained, crossing his arms with a huff. He and Logan had received a text from Patton that, as soon as school let out, they needed to go to the house of the kid they’d drove to the hospital and pick up anything they thought he’d need, whether it be clothes or electronics or whatever.

“Technically, Roman, we’re not running errands for Virgil. We’re running errands for Patton, who happens to be working to help a stranger. This is for our friend.” Logan turned off the engine of his disgustingly old Dodge Intrepid. He shoved open the squeaky door and walked up to the porch of the large white house.

“Yes, but--” Roman argued as he’d exited from the passenger seat-- “Why do  _we_  have to do this? Why can’t  _he_  do it?”

“Did you see how Patton was acting when we were checking Virgil into the hospital? He was an emotional wreck. I doubt he’d even leave Virgil’s side if we threatened to murder a puppy right in front of his face. He obviously has some sort of emotional attachment to the kid.” Logan punched in the code to unlock the door. The way that Patton had gotten the code was a mystery that Logan would probably never be able to solve. Shaking the thought from his mind, he pushed open the door and led Roman inside.

The inside of the house was just as plain as the outside. Light grey linoleum tiles lined the floor, and every surface was painted white. Even the doors were white. It was the biggest disgrace to the profession of interior design that either of the teenagers had ever seen.

“The bedroom is upstairs, correct?” Logan asked, looking around for any semblance of a clue that indicated someone actually lived in this house. The whole thing was oddly bare; there were just a few pieces of furniture in each room that he could see.

“Yeah, second door on the right.” Roman had already made it halfway up the stairs by the time he’d finished his sentence. Logan sighed and followed his dramatic friend.

It would have been easy to find out which room was the correct one even if they hadn’t had the directions. The door to Virgil’s room had been painted black and stuck out like a sore thumb against the blaring white of everything else. Roman swung the door open and walked inside with a flourish that only he would add.

“What a dreary nightmare this place is.” Roman grabbed a vinyl sleeve that had been discarded on the floor.  _American Beauty / American Psycho_  by Fall Out Boy. With a slight eye roll, he shucked the sleeve onto the desk to his left. He looked to Logan and saw that he’d had already gathered a pile of assorted black clothes onto the black duvet.  _Shocking._

Roman let out a long sigh and gathered things from the desk. He took a few notebooks that were labeled with school subjects and their corresponding binders, a pencil case, a pair of over-ear headphones and attached cell phone, a well used black eyeshadow single, and a weird little cube with a bunch of buttons on it. He placed them on the bed and grabbed a backpack from the floor, stuffing his finds into it. Logan had pulled a suitcase from somewhere-- probably the closet--and had begun to neatly fold clothes and pack them up.

“I’m going to search for the bathroom to grab Mr. Black Sky’s toiletries.” All Roman got in response was a nod. With a slight eye roll, he left the room and began to peek into each room in the hallway. The one third on the right turned out to be another bedroom, as was the fourth, the one across the hall from that one was a linen closet, and the two down the hall were completely empty. Last, he checked the first door on the right. He opened the door and found a pristinely clean bathroom, minus the spread of toiletries across the counter.

Roman grabbed the toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush that was laying on the ground near the edge of the counter. He picked up a small rectangular metal thing that was hidden behind a stack of washcloths. It suddenly snapped open to reveal a small knife that had little flecks of blood on it. His stomach dropped, and he quickly closed the blade, nearly throwing it back onto the counter.

His mind strayed back to the time when Pat had been having a rough time. He and Logan had stayed up until ungodly hours researching things to help. Roman remembered when he’d clicked on a link and was brought to a website about cutting with graphic images of scars and cuts. Although he was not normally squeamish around blood, the thought of his friend hurting himself had nearly made him throw up.

He’d seen similar scars on Virgil when he’d helped Logan patch up his cuts. A shiver ran through his body. He didn’t want to think about that.

“Roman? Have you acquired everything that you need?” Logan’s voice called from the room over. Roman shook his shoulders and stood up straighter.

“Yeah, Lo. I’ll be there in just a moment.” After throwing one last glance at the knife on the counter, he made his way back to Virgil’s bedroom. Logan grabbed the toiletries from his hands and shoved them into the backpack before slipping it onto his shoulder. The two brought the bags out to the car and stowed them in the back seat. Roman’s memories from the bathroom were soon forgotten when he received another text from Patton.

 

> _**Patton**  
>  Delivered at 3:30 pm_  
>  Virge has to stay in the hospital for the next few days for mental examination. They’re worried about him attempting suicide again. If you guys could pick up a stuffed animal from the gift shop, I’d really appreciate it! <333

> _**Roman**    
>  Read at 3:31 pm_  
>  Of course, Pat! We’re just leaving the house now, so we’ll be at the hospital soon. Do you need anything?

> **Patton**  
>  Delivered at 3:31 pm  
>  Just a water bottle. See you guys when you get here! <33333
> 
> _**Patton**  
>  Delivered at 3:47 pm_  
>  I just realized I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Can you grab me something to eat in the cafeteria?

> _**Roman**  
>  Read at 3:50 pm_  
>  I’ll add it to the list of things we need to do that Logan’s forcing me to write. Be there in 15.

> **Patton**  
>  Delivered at 3:50 pm  
>  Awesome! <3
> 
> _**Patton**  
>  Delivered at 3:54 pm_  
>  Roman?

> _**Roman**  
>  Read at 3:54 pm_  
>  Yes, Patton?

> _**Patton**  
>  Delivered at 3:55 pm_  
>  Thank you both. I really appreciate what you’re doing for Virge and I.

> _**Roman**  
>  Read at 3:56 pm_  
>  It’s no problem Patton. You’ve had a rough day and deserve some rest.

> _**Patton**  
>  Delivered at 3:56 pm_  
>  You and Logan are fam ILY.


	4. lean on me (when you're not strong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: food mentions, swearing, mentions of injury, anxiety, roman’s kind of a dick but he feels bad, a single flirtation, possibly something else
> 
> (title from lean on me by bill withers)

Roman didn’t know what he’d expected to see when he walked into Virgil’s hospital room, but it certainly wasn’t  _that_. Patton was sitting in the bed with the pretty much stranger, eyes closed, arms wrapped around him, and chin resting on his head. Virgil was asleep, which, after the day’s events, wasn’t very surprising. He could hear Patton softly humming a son that he couldn’t exactly place.

“Hey, Pat! We brought you some spaghetti from the cafeteria and a gift for Virgil.” Roman made sure to keep his voice quiet, not wanting to disturb the sleeping teen just feet away. Patton opened his eyes and smiled an incredibly bright smile. He motioned towards the over-the-bed table tray thing (Roman couldn’t think of a single word to describe the atrocity on wheels). Roman gave Pat his dinner while Logan set to organizing the luggage they’d brought with them.

“Did we have any Comm Arts homework tonight?” Patton quietly asked between bites of pasta.

“No,” Logan told him. “But we do have to do a page in the Physics packet. It’s only five problems, but they’re pretty long, and that’s coming from me.” 

Patton groaned in response.

Roman added, “I also talked to your Child Guidance teacher, and she told me that your class was having a test tomorrow on Chapter Six. You should probably email her and ask if you’d be able to take it at home since I don’t assume you’ll be leaving Virgil alone.” He shot a knowing look to Pat as he said this. It wasn’t news that Patton was basically the dad friend; he was always caring about everyone else’s well being and stayed committed to them when they need support, even if that person was someone he’d just met.  _Especially_  if that person was someone he’d just met.

“Neither of us had time to ask your Psychology teacher about homework, but I’d just send him an email that explains your situation, and I’m sure he’ll give you a break. We know how worried you get, and we don’t want any excessive stress about school on top of that,” Logan added with a small smile.

“Thanks, guys! You’re the best friends I could ask for.” Patton had somehow finished his entire plate of food in the less than two minute conversation and had opened up his phone to email his teachers.

The instant the phone had been turned off, Logan spoke up once more. “Patton, I know you want to look after Virgil, but have you gotten any sleep in the past twenty four hours? You look like a figurative zombie.” Roman couldn’t help but agree. Intense bags had formed under his friend’s eyes, and he looked as if he would fall asleep at any moment.

“I’m okay, guys. I promi--” Patton’s words got cut off by an intense yawn.

“Point proven. We’ll look after him while you rest, okay? Roman, get out the blanket that we packed.” Logan’s words, although could be taken as harsh, were very gentle and kind. Patton wiggled out from under Virgil, being careful not to wake him up. Roman handed over the blanket and guided him to the padded bench in the corner of the room. Almost as soon as Patton had set his head on the blanket, he was out. The two remaining teens smiled at their loving friend.

* * *

“Who the  _fuck_  are you two?!” Virgil screeched. Upon waking up, he had found himself in his hospital room with Patton asleep in the corner and two random guys playing what looked like chess three feet away.

“Welcome back to the living, Creeping Beauty,” muttered the smaller guy in the red short sleeved button up with little white hearts, not looking up from the game.

“My name is Logan Christiansen, and this is my friend Roman Patrick. We’re friends with Patton, and we have been tasked with watching over you while he gets a little sleep.” The guy in the tie, Logan, adjusted his glasses and made a move on the board in front of him. “Check mate, Roman.”

Virgil sighed and looked around the room for something to do while Logan and Roman were playing chess. He spotted his suitcase and instantly got a little happier.

“Did you guys happen to bring my phone and headphones?” Honestly, he didn’t care if he sounded like a little kid in a candy store. He’d been craving the ability to listen to something loud so that he could wash out all of the bad thoughts in his mind.

“Yeah,” Roman answered. “It’s in your backpack. Give me a second to find it.” He got up and rummaged through the black backpack a few feet away until he found what he was looking for. He dropped it on the lap of Virgil and went right back to playing his game.

Navigating a phone with barely any of his fingers unbandaged was a task, to say the least, but Virgil eventually got open the music app and put it on shuffle. The first song to come up was “Novocaine” by Fall Out Boy. A smile spread on his face. He closed his eyes and let the music soothe him until he fell back to sleep.

* * *

Roman glanced at where Logan had fallen asleep in the middle of a physics problem and sighed. He’d accidentally left his phone in the car and was hopelessly bored. The teen dramatically propped his feet up onto the hospital bed and threw his head back.

“Hey, Drama Queen. Is there any way you could get me some food?” Roman’s head snapped to look at Virgil, who was looking at him with disinterest.

“First of all,” Roman started. “I am not a ‘Drama  _Queen._ ’ Second, I think that the cafeteria closed at eight, and it’s well past ten right now.” 

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Awesome. Truly, how could this day get any better? An astounding ending,” the boy muttered as he ran a bandaged hand through his hair. Admittedly, Roman felt bad for the kid. He’d had a really rough day, and not being able to eat was probably weighing on him. With a sudden change of heart, Roman stood up and grabbed his wallet.

“Would you rather stay here, or do you want me to grab you a wheelchair so I can push you around on a quest for food?” For a second, Roman almost swore that he had seen a hint of a smile flash across Virgil’s face.

“ _Wheelchair_.” Virgil swung his legs until they hung off the side of his mattress and slowly sat up, taking hold of his IV stand in the process.

It only took Roman a minute to find a wheelchair that he could use. Virgil hopped off the bed, almost eating shit in the process, and plunked himself into the wheelchair. Their quest for some sustenance started with very few setbacks until they reached the elevators.

“Oh,  _shit_! I forgot that I’d have to take the elevator.  _Fuck_.” It took all of Roman’s self control not to laugh at that comment.

“Afraid of elevators, Dr. Disasterology?” Roman teased.

“Shut  _up_ , asshole.” Virgil sneered. “Look, there’s a lot that could go wrong in an elevator, not to mention that it’s fucking tiny.”

“Well, it’s too late to turn back now.” Roman pushed the wheelchair into the elevator and hit the button for the third floor. All color had drained out of Virgil’s face as soon as the elevator had started to move. It only took a second for Roman to realize that his actions had been a dick move.

“Virgil, are you going to be okay? We can abort the mission and just go back if you nee--”

“No. We’re going,” Virgil said through clenched teeth. The elevator dinged, announcing they’d reached the correct floor, and Roman pushed them out as soon as the doors were wide enough to allow for them to pass. He could visibly see Virgil calm down, which was both relieving and mildly terrifying at the same time.

“Let’s see if any of the vending machines are on. I think there are a few near the cafeteria, and they looked like they had some okay choices.” Roman murmured as he tried to gather his thoughts while they wandered around the hospital.

Virgil pointed to his left. “That looks kinda promising.” There was a lone vending machine tucked away in a corner. Its lights were on, but it didn’t look like it’d been touched in ages. Roman dramatically made racecar noises as he turned the wheelchair and pushed them towards the machine. He didn’t even need to be looking to know that Virgil had rolled his eyes.

Virgil scanned the contents of the machine once they’d arrived. It was full of options, and it looked like nothing had been bought.

“Alright, Prince Charming, can you buy me some of those veggie straw things and a cinnamon bun?” 

Roman obliged, especially since he only had to spend a total of two dollars on the meal.

“Thanks, dude,” Virgil said as he tore open the bag of veggie straws.

“No problem. At least you’re not a food vacuum like Patton. He ate his entire plate of pasta in less than two minutes.” Virgil couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Is that a challenge? Because I will totally fight him on that title of ‘food vacuum.’” He shoved a giant handful of chips into his mouth, immediately reaching for another. Roman had to pause navigating their way to the elevators to physically stop Virgil from stuffing his mouth.

There were exactly three other incidents were Virgil tried to shove copious amounts of food into his mouth, and the third happened to be at the same moment that they were arriving at the room. Roman opened the door to be greeted by a worried Patton, who was staring straight at Virgil as he ate a full handful of the chips. 

Patton’s face instantly grew cheery as he saw the pair. “I was so worried about you two! I’m glad you’re okay; although, Roman, it was irresponsible to not leave a note explaining where you went. I almost woke up Logan and made him come with me to search for you!” Patton’s words were flying out of his mouth at a speed that was barely comprehensible.

“Sorry, Pat. I should’ve left a note. Virgil was really hungry, so we went to get him some--VIRGIL I SWEAR TO  _GOD_  DO NOT SHOVE THAT WHOLE CINNAMON BUN INTO YOUR MOUTH--food. Glad to see you got some sleep, though.” Roman gave Patton a quick hug before helping Virgil back into the bed.

“You and Logan should probably head out. I don’t want you two to be tired for school tomorrow.” Pat once again took a seat at Virgil’s side. Roman nodded and began to lightly shake Logan’s shoulder.

“Hey, sleepyhead. It’s time to get up so you can drive us home.”

“...What?” Logan asked, voice laced with tiredness.

“It’s around ten thirty, Lo. We need to get home and sleep in an actual bed, not on a chair. C’mon, dear heart,” Roman coaxed. It took Logan all of thirty seconds to actually process the information, and in that time Roman decided he’d be driving them to Logan’s house and staying there for the night.

After the duo packed up their things and said goodbye, Virgil and Patton were left alone in the dreary hospital room, where the only sounds were Virgil softly chewing on his cinnamon roll and the EKG machine.

“Did you have a good nap?” Virgil asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah, I did. How was your food adventure with Roman?” Patton was  _really_  curious. Out of Logan and Roman, he’d expected Virgil to dislike Roman’s dramatic nature far more than Logan’s intense intelligence.

“It was… interesting. Roman is totally dramatic, so it was way funnier to mess around with him and see his reactions.” Virgil thought back to the numerous times he’d messed around just to fuck with Roman and laughed.  _Seriously, Virgil,_  he’d scolded.  _I don’t want you choking on food on our way back up. Patton would_ literally _kill me._

“Well that’s good, kiddo! And how are you feeling? Do you need me to get you anything?”

“I’m good, Patton. Really. I feel better than I have in a while, to be honest.” There was no lie in what Virgil said. He really  _did_  feel better than he had in a long time. All of the things that the trio of friends were doing for him made him feel really happy. Like, maybe he did actually matter.

“That’s wonderful!” The two sat in silence for a while before Virgil spoke up again.

“Thanks for everything you’re doing, Patton. I’ve been kind of an ass to you today.” Virgil focused on his hands. He was really embarrassed that he’d ended up in the hospital when everything could’ve been avoided if he’d just shut his fucking mouth and listened to Patton.

“Don’t worry about it. I told you earlier today that I’ve been in some rough times as well. It’s really, really hard on a person, and sometimes they do things they don’t really mean.” Patton reached up and ruffled Virgil’s hair, to which he protested. The duo broke out in laughter. Virgil really could get used to this whole having-friends thing.

“Do you want to listen to some music? I have some not-super-punk songs if you’d rather listen to something lighter.” Admittedly, “some not-super-punk songs” meant things like “20 Dollar Nosebleed” and “This is Gospel,” but  _technically_  they weren’t as punk rock the rest of his collection.

“We can listen to whatever you want, Virge. Don’t let me stop you from listening to the music you enjoy.” 

Virgil shrugged and unplugged his headphones, turning up the volume at the same time. He hit shuffle on his playlist and let the sounds of “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” fill the room.

The two teenagers sat there for a long while before both of them eventually fell asleep.


	5. 'cause i wanna go home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of needles, mentions of antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds, mentions of self harm, mentions of depression, guilt, food mentions, possibly something else
> 
> (title from roaring 20s by panic!)

Every few hours, a nurse would come in to check Virgil’s vitals and blood pressure and to ask questions about his mental well being. Each time a nurse entered, Virgil tensed. He was  _terrified_  that he could say something wrong--that one tiny misstep could see him shipped away to some mental facility where he’d be poked with needles all the time. Luckily, Patton was still there, keeping him grounded and in control of his thoughts. He was extremely grateful for that.

After a particularly intense meeting where they’d asked about self harm and pushed far too hard for his comfort, Patton pulled a small gift bag out of his backpack.

“I had Logan and Roman pick this up from the gift shop yesterday, but I decided to save it until you really needed it.” Pat placed the bag onto Virgil’s lap and watched expectantly. Virgil pulled away the tissue paper and gasped. There was a tiny cat plushie inside, which he took out with careful hands.

“This is awesome, Patton. Thank you.” A hint of a smile spread across his face.

“It’s no problem, kiddo! Now, why don’t we listen to some of that sweet music of yours? I know it calms you down.” Patton reached for the phone, but Virgil stopped him.

“Aren’t you missing a ton of school to stay here, Pat? Don’t get me wrong; it’s nice to have you around as moral support, but I don’t want you to fall behind.” He rhythmically squeezed his new plushie in an attempt to stay calm.

“Roman and Logan will bring me my school stuff tonight, and I can access lessons online for most of my classes. Don’t worry about me, kiddo. Worry about yourself.”

“Alright…”

* * *

Over the days, Patton and Virgil fell into a simple rhythm. There were three check-ins before lunch, three before Logan and Roman showed up at around 4, one before dinner, and two before Logan and Roman left for the night. Even though they had to stay an extra half-day “just to be sure,” the schedule stayed the same, and Virgil didn’t really worry about it. When he was finally discharged on Saturday morning, the doctor had offered to prescribe antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication.

“It might help with your suicidal ideations,” he’d coaxed. He had the same sugary sweet twinge in his voice that the nurses had as if he was trying too hard to be genuine.

“Um, that’s okay. I don’t think I’ll need them.” Virgil’s voice was shaky. He didn’t want to take any medicines that messed with his brain, especially ones that had a higher chance of addiction. He didn’t need anything like that to top off his pile of problems.

“Alright, but if you ever decide you do, here’s my extension so you can get a prescription.” The doctor handed him a slip of paper. Virgil just nodded as he watched the doctor leave. He’d already changed into his normal clothes and makeup, though his normal hoodie had been swapped out for a deep purple one because his normal one was had been covered in blood and deemed a “biohazard.”

Virgil pushed himself off of the hospital bed and cringed at the loud smack his high tops made when his feet hit the ground. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and waited for Pat to gather all of his things. Roman and Logan had taken the suitcase back to Patton’s house on Thursday, so there were only a few things left to be taken. When Virgil glanced back at Patton, all he saw was a pile of blankets and cardigans walking towards him.

“Um, Pat? You need some help?” Patton’s head popped up from behind the pile.

“Nope. I just need you to push the buttons of the elevator and open the doors for me!”  Virgil opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. Better to not ask any questions.

As soon as they hit the ground floor, Virgil let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t have to be in this damn hospital anymore, nor did he have to answer the invasive questions from the staff, and he certainly didn’t have to eat the gross hospital food (that soup definitely  _wasn’t_  made with chicken). Plus, he didn’t have to take the elevator whenever he wanted to get anywhere.

“Hey, Young and Menace,” Roman greeted as the duo got into Logan’s car.

“What’s up, Fancy Pants?” Virgil quipped. It wasn’t his best remark, but he cut himself some slack after being in the hospital for four days.

“Logan,” Patton whined, ignoring the squabbling. “Can we  _pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaasssseeeee_  go get pancakes?  _Pleeaaaaaassseeeee_?” He sounded like a toddler who was trying to beg his parents to buy him a new toy that he seriously did not need.

“Didn’t you just have breakfast an hou--”

“But  _Logan_! It’s a special occasion!”  Logan glanced back at his friend in the rearview mirror, and it was obvious from his face that he’d caved.

“Fine.”

“ _YES_!” Patton screeched and hugged Logan around the seat, much to the latter’s dismay.

After stopping for takeaway pancakes, Patton and Virgil were delivered home. Once again, Pat took a giant mound of things in while Virgil only carried his backpack. He’d had tried to convince Patton to give him some of the items, but he was only met with refusals. Defeated, he shrugged and made his way into the house.

“I had my parents set up a room for you near me. I think it’s all ready, if you want to head upstairs! It’s the door across from mine,” Patton said with a strange hint of excitement. Something was definitely up, but Virgil couldn’t quite think of what could be waiting for him.

Together, they maneuvered around the  ~~maze~~  house and climbed the stairs. Before Virgil could open the door, Patton shyly said, “I should probably warn you that I have a surprise for you. It’s nothing big, so don’t worry about it at all, but I wanted to make sure.”  Virgil highly doubted that it was “nothing big” since nothing Patton did for his friends seemed small, but he turned the knob anyway. He looked back at his friend before pushing the door open.

Virgil wasn’t much of an exaggerator (okay,  _maybe_ he was sometimes), but he  _literally_  lost his breath for a moment when he saw the room. Inside, the room had been painted dark grey, with black and purple sheets, a metal desk, a black dresser, and even a few movie posters hanging on the walls. It was  _incredible_.

“Patton, you had this done for  _me_? Seriously? That’s so  _fucking_  cool!” Virgil walked in and sat down on his bed, discarding his backpack on the floor.

“Of course, kiddo. I have one more surprise, so wait right there while I get it.” Patton literally dropped all of the stuff in his arms onto the floor and ran into his room. Virgil rubbed his hands on the blanket on his bed, and he found the sheets had an incredibly soft texture no matter which way he ran his hand across it. He was so busy examining the blanket that he hadn’t realized Patton had returned.

“Here’s your last surprise, Virge!” he exclaimed. Virgil snapped his head to look at what Pat was holding.

“Is that… a paper chain?” The teen on the bed was thoroughly confused.

“Yeah! While we were in the hospital, I was researching things about depression and anxiety, and I stumbled upon this thing called the Paper Chain Project. Basically, you add colorful rings for every day you go without self harming, and if you relapse, you add a white chain, but continue the chain each day after without self harming. It’s supposed to show you that if you’ve resisted before, you can resist again.” Patton held out the three-link chain to Virgil, who hesitantly took it.

The first chain was made of light blue construction paper and had “Wed, April 26. To Virgil, From Patton. I hope your journey continues with happiness and success.” The other two, made of purple and pink paper, had nothing on them. Tears welled up in Virgil’s eyes

“I… I…” Virgil’s voice trailed off into a sob. He was so lucky to have been found by Patton that night. For once, he actually saw a pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel.

The mattress next to Virgil sunk down as Patton sat. “I know, kiddo. I know.” Patton’s arms wrapped around him, anchoring him. He took his arms and returned the hug, crying softly into the other’s shirt.

“’When Rome’s in ruins, we are the lions,’” Patton sang. He must’ve been subconsciously learning the songs Virgil had played during their time in the hospital. “’Free of the coliseums. In poison places, we are anti-venom. We’re the beginning of the end.’”

Patton sang until Virgil’s tears had finally dried out. Virgil pulled away and hastily wiped at his eyes with his sleeves.

“Thank you, Patton. For saving me, twice, actually, and for staying with me and for doing all of these really incredible things for me. You’re an awesome friend. Like, the best ever.” 

Patton’s normal smile only grew larger. “That’s what friends are for, Virge! Now, I’m sure you want to spend a little time alone, so you’re free to roam the house if you want to, or you can use our extra laptop to go online or do homework. It should be in the desk drawer.” Patton stood up and gave a quick wave before heading to his own room.

Virgil sat on his bed for a few more minutes, twisting the paper chain around in his hands, before standing up to find the laptop. He hadn’t contacted a single one of his teachers about his absences, and he dreaded having to explain that he’d been in the hospital for four days. He pulled the laptop out of the desk, along with a pen and a few sheets of looseleaf paper.

There was no password on the laptop, luckily, so he easily booted it up and opened Chrome, signing into his school email account. He had about fifteen emails from his teachers. Most of them were “Hey! I’ve noticed you haven’t been at school for the past few days, and you hadn’t been planning a vacation, so here’s your homework you’ve missed,” but the ones from his Graphic Arts teacher really stood out.

> **_From Anna Miller (millan@westview.k12.fl.us)_ **
> 
> _To Virgil Thomas (thomvir@westviewstudents.org)_
> 
> **Subject:**  April 24
> 
> Hey, Virgil! I noticed you were acting a bit down today and wanted to make you’re doing alright. I’m really excited to see your design for the banner project, by the way!
> 
> See you tomorrow,
> 
> Mrs. Miller

> **_From Anna Miller (millan@westview.k12.fl.us)_ **
> 
> _To Virgil Thomas (thomvir@westviewstudents.org)_
> 
> **Subject:**  April 25
> 
> I noticed you weren’t in class today, so I hope you don’t mind me checking up on you, Virgil. After yesterday, I’m just a little bit worried about your well being. I hope to see you tomorrow; you always bring a good dose of sarcasm to class, and I’m beginning to miss that.
> 
> Mrs. Miller

> **_From Anna Miller (millan@westview.k12.fl.us)_ **
> 
> _To Virgil Thomas (thomvir@westviewstudents.org)_
> 
> **Subject:**  April 26
> 
> Hey, Virgil. You’ve been missing for a few days, and it’s starting to worry me. I tried to call your parents, but neither would pick up. I’m sure you’re okay, but I just want to make sure. You’re a really good student, but I’m sure you know that. It’s been very hard to keep class on track without your witty remarks.
> 
> Mrs. Miller

> **_From Anna Miller (millan@westview.k12.fl.us)_ **
> 
> _To Virgil Thomas (thomvir@westviewstudents.org)_
> 
> **Subject:**  April 27
> 
> Virgil, although it’s against my better judgement, I’ve decided to stop emailing you after this one. I’m very worried about you, but sometimes people just don’t check their emails. The lessons from these past days are linked below. There hasn’t been any homework since we’ve just been working on banners. There isn’t a lesson for tomorrow, so don’t worry about that.
> 
> Mrs. Miller

Virgil immediately clicked the reply button on the last email.

> **_From Virgil Thomas (thomvir@westviewstudents.org)_ **
> 
> _To Anna Miller (millan@westview.k12.fl.us)_
> 
> **Subject:**  Re: April 27
> 
> Mrs. Miller,
> 
> I’m really sorry to have left you hanging these past few days. Yes, I’m okay. I had an accident on Tuesday that put me in the hospital for a few days. I’ll be back tomorrow, but I might be a little out of it. I’ve had my living arrangements be mixed up as well, so I’m trying to get used to the change. I might need a few days to catch up as well, since I don’t know if I’ll be able to do 16 lessons worth of stuff in two days.
> 
> Virgil Thomas

_Send_. Virgil let out a breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. It had completely slipped his mind that Mrs. Miller would be worried that he’d suddenly disappeared, especially with how close they were. It left a little pang of guilt in his stomach, but he knew there wasn’t much he could do about that. At least he’d  _eventually_  gotten back to her.

He clicked around through the emails, collecting assignments and downloading lessons. Virgil was already feeling overwhelmed by the work. He had at least thirty math problems for each day that he’d been gone, plus the ones he’d neglected on his birthday, fifty pages of reading for AP Gov, and he needed to make the set designs for the upcoming show for his Theatre independent study, since they were beginning production soon. He decided the set designs would be the easiest, so he started on that.

They were doing Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “Cinderella Enchanted” for their spring musical, which was really exciting. Although Virgil was all doom and gloom, he really enjoyed making fantastical sets for the shows that really packed a punch for the whole atmosphere. He’d been told they’d have backdrops for the village and ballroom, but they’d need wall pieces for the house and the outside of the house in the garden scene. He needed to pick out furniture when he could actually see what they had in the shop, but pieces they definitely needed to build were a fountain for the village center, the carriage, the pumpkin patch, and the flower arch for the kiss scene outside of the palace. It wasn’t too intense, but it was still a lot. Virgil made rough sketches of some basic layouts, adding labels for clarification.

When he was finished, he felt very accomplished, even though the plans were pretty plain, and the more definite details would need to be discussed once building began. Virgil looked over his work and set them to the side. He checked the time on his phone and was shocked to see that it was already 3:30. He had been so sure he’d spent only an hour at most on the designs, not three. A sigh escaped from his mouth. Might as well go to check in with Patton.

He tidied his desk just a bit before heading over to the opposite room. Virgil lightly knocked on the door and waited to hear a response. After no reply, he knocked again, slightly harder this time. He heard some rustling behind the door, and then the door suddenly opened to show a slightly disheveled Patton standing in front of him. Virgil was slightly taken aback.

“Um, Patton? Are you okay?” He made a sweeping gesture of Pat’s messy hair and clothes.

Patton smiled. “Of course! I’m just having some trouble with some of my Physics homework.” It seemed to be more like a lot of trouble, but Virgil really couldn’t blame him for struggling. Missing four days of school would be hard on anybody.

“Do you need help? I had physics last semester and got a pretty good grade.” Virgil didn’t mention he’d gotten perfect scores on every test, nor that he never missed an assignment due date or extra credit project.

“Oh! Sure, kiddo. That’d be very nice of you. Thanks.” Patton stepped out of the way and gestured inside his bedroom. The two took seats at Patton’s white desk and worked on trajectory and resistance problems until Pat’s dad had come to tell them that dinner was ready.


	6. ohana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: food mentions, eating, nightmares, crying, swearing, a poor excuse for the “sharing a bed” trope, anxiety, depression, possibly something else but it really is mostly fluff this chapter
> 
> (title from lilo and stitch)

When he’d agreed to stay with Patton’s family, Virgil really hadn’t thought about the fact that they would have dinner together every night, but here he was, sitting in their kitchen with a heaping plate of chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans as they talked about anything and everything. He absently ate his food, not really listening to their conversation. It felt like he was intruding, even though they’d offered to take him in.

“So, Virgil. We hear you go to school with Patton. Do you have any classes with him?” Mrs. Shea asked. Virgil nearly choked on his food with the shock of being addressed so casually.

“Um, no. I don’t,” he responded quickly. He might’ve had some in the past, but high school was just one big blur to him. No use in keeping memories if there aren’t any to save.

“I see.” Mr. Shea hummed thoughtfully. “Do you have any fun classes this semester? Pat’s taking child guidance and he really enjoys it!” 

“I have Graphics III and a Theatre independent study where I basically make sure everything's running smoothly for the shows.” Virgil pushed the remaining food around on his plate, determined to not make an ass of himself in front of people he barely knew.

“You do theatre? Pat, isn’t Roman trying out for ‘Cinderella?’” Mr. Shea seemed to be determined, too; however, his determination lied in a need to ask as many questions possible.

“Of  _course_  he is! He’d never pass up an opportunity to be on stage, especially if he can be a prince,” Patton said with a touch of platonic love in his voice. Virgil was  _shocked_  that Roman was trying out for the show. It wasn’t like the kid gave off a constant aura of drama or anything.

“I don’t act, just to be clear. I’m set designer and head of sound, so I deal with all of the sound effects and mics.” He’d never try out for a show. First, he had no interest to put himself on stage in a dumb costume in front of all of his peers, and second, he really,  _really_  didn’t want to have to spend more time with the snobby actors than he had to.

“Well, that’s fun!” Mrs. Shea said with a large smile. Virgil just nodded and took another bite of his mashed potatoes. The conversation luckily turned back to Patton’s other friends, and he was able to enjoy his dinner in the comfort of the defocused static of voices.

* * *

Somehow Virgil  _did_  manage to finish all of his homework the next day and also help Patton finish his. The happy-go-lucky teenager seemed to have some trouble with the more technical subjects like physics but had absolutely no issue with the more creative ones like comm arts. That made sense to Virgil, however, since Patton was much more emotional than logical. It was as if he channeled his emotions into whatever he did without really thinking it through as a step-by-step process.

Sunday night, Virgil went to sleep completely exhausted from the mentally-taxing work that he’d done that day. At around midnight, however, he woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. Virgil grabbed his phone and turned on the flashlight, leaving it on his nightstand face down so it would partially illuminate his bedroom, and walked to the door. Unsurprisingly, Patton was on the other side with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Surprisingly, wet tear tracks were staining his cheeks.

“Woah, Pat. Are you okay?” Virgil asked.

“I had a nightmare,” Patton softly cried. “It was really vivid, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m all good, see?” Virgil patted himself on the cheeks as some sort of weird assurance. “Do you want to sleep in here? I’ll sleep on the floor, and you can take my bed.” 

The crying boy shook his head. “I don’t want you to have to give up your bed for me.  _I’ll_  sleep on the floor.” Patton made a move to go lay his blanket down, but Virgil grabbed his shoulder, easily stopping his movements.

“Okay, since you obviously aren’t going to make this easy for me, how about we just share the bed? There’s plenty of room for two people.” Virgil hesitated on that last part, still not completely comfortable with sharing a bed with someone he’d only met a week ago, but... he knew that Patton wasn’t going to let him be uncomfortable. Pat just nodded and waddled to the side of the bed where the sheets weren’t disrupted and sat down. Virgil followed, but flopped himself down on his own side.

“G’night, Pat. Sleep well.” He turned off his phone’s flashlight and pulled the covers over his head.

“Good night.”

* * *

When Virgil’s alarm woke him up at 6:30, he found himself with an arm on his waist and his legs tangled with someone else’s. He yelped and accidentally threw himself off of the bed; idly, he realized that his legs still partially hung on the mattress. It took him a few seconds to realize who was in the bed and why they were there, but that still didn’t explain why he’d ended up entangled with Patton.

He sighed and did a backwards somersault to right himself and stood. It probably would be appropriate to wake Patton up so he wouldn’t end up late to school. He sleepily traversed to the other side of the bed and began gently shaking his friend.

“Pat,” Virgil whispered. “Patton, it’s time to get up.” The still-asleep Patton groaned but rolled over, shielding his eyes from the sun filtering through the blinds. It took a little more shaking to actually get him out of the bed, but it was eventually done.

“I’m gonna go take a shower and get changed, so I suppose you should do the same,” Virgil said as he went to gather some clothes from his suitcase and walked into his own personal en-suite bathroom. Still pretty fancy.

Virgil took a short shower, spending just long enough under the water to thoroughly wash his hair and body, and got changed, smudging some dark eyeshadow under his eyes. He pulled on a pair of socks and laced up his favorite black high tops, being careful not to get any of his skinny jeans stuck inside. That was an uncomfortable mistake he’d learned to avoid after one fateful day.

He left his room at the same time Patton did, who was wearing another light-blue t-shirt with a grey cardigan tied around his waist. Any signs of his nightmare had been completely washed away.

“Hey, kiddo! Your outfit looks awesome!” Pat had a giant smile on his face.

“Uh, thanks… Your… shoes… look good?” Virgil didn’t know if he was supposed to return the compliment, so he tried. It didn’t work too well.

“Thanks! Let’s head downstairs and get some breakfast.” The duo made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Mrs. Shea was waiting with scrambled eggs and toast.

“If either of you need more food, I put the extras in the fridge in the red Tupperware container.” Mrs. Shea walked out of the kitchen, but Virgil had no idea where she had gone. He still hadn’t been in any of the rooms besides his and Pat’s bedrooms, and the whole layout of the house was a bit of a mystery. The adults obviously had a bedroom, but it didn’t seem like it was upstairs.

Each of the boys took a plate of food and sat down at the kitchen table. Virgil began to munch on his plain toast, idly messing around on his phone. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the kitchen were crunching toast and silverware on ceramic.

“How did you sleep, Virge?” Patton asked before shoving a giant forkful of eggs into his mouth. Virgil could see how Roman described Pat as a “food vacuum” while they were in the hospital.

“Pretty good. How about you--after your nightmare, of course?” Virgil took the final bite of his toast and began on his own eggs.

“I slept great!” Patton replied, but his voice became slightly more sheepish. “Thanks for letting me stay in your room.”

“Don’t worry about it, Pat,” the other reassured. It truly wasn’t a bother to Virgil; he’d slept better than he had in a long time. He switched off his phone to retain his full attention on his friend.

“Well, still. Thanks.” Patton glanced down at his watch. “We should probably finish up eating soon. Logan and Roman should be here soon to pick us up.”

Virgil nodded and scooped some more eggs into his mouth. It only took him another minute to finish and hand his plate to Patton, who had already began to rinse the dishes and load them into the dishwasher. Virgil ran upstairs to grabbed his backpack, making absolute certain that all of his homework and supplies were packed before bringing the whole thing down. Patton did the same, and they walked outside to sit on the porch together. Just a few minutes later, Logan’s beat-up Intrepid pulled into the driveway blasting “A Girl Worth Fighting For.” Virgil couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight of Roman dramatically singing along and Logan’s “I am so  _fucking_  done with your shit” expression.

It was going to be a really great day.


	7. safe and sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: blood, self harm, panic attacks, crying, poor coping mechanisms, mentions of sensory overload, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, self hatred, possibly something else
> 
> (title from a song that i can't remember)

Before he piled into the back of the car, Virgil took his headphones out of his bag and slid them over his ears. He didn’t need a sensory overload at 7:30 in the morning just because the Disney Prince didn’t have any volume control. Like,  _at all_.

“Wow, Roman! I like the new look! The bomber jacket really makes the whole thing work,” Patton squealed. Roman turned in his seat to look back at Pat, and Virgil could see what he meant. Instead of his usual bare face, he’d put on gold shimmery eyeshadow and red lipstick. Virgil hated to admit it, but he looked  _really_  good.

A few minutes into the ride, Virgil felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned to Patton, who was obviously the giver of the “pat,” with raised eyebrows.

 _Are you okay?_  Patton mouthed, tapping his ears to simulate headphones.

 _Yeah. No need to be overstimulated so early._  Virgil mouthed back with a gesture to Roman, who was still singing along to various Disney songs. Patton just nodded and went back to conversing--er,  _trying_  to converse with Logan.

The car arrived at Westview High at exactly 7:45, giving each of the students plenty of time to do what they needed before class started at eight. Patton and Virgil went to the office together to drop off their absence notes, then parted ways to go to their lockers.

Virgil walked the whole twenty feet trek to his locker to drop off his backpack and grab his Graphic Arts portfolio and pencil case. He shoved his phone into his hoodie pocket and turned up the volume on his playlist, blasting Green Day as he walked to the opposite end of the school for his first block class.

The dark-clad teenager had hoped he would fly under the radar, but the instant he walked into the graphic arts room, his teacher ambushed him.

“Virgil! I got your email, but what landed you in the hospital for  _three days_?” Mrs. Miller asked. Virgil nearly dropped his binder due to the pure shock of being spoken to so suddenly. He ripped off his headphones and put a hand to his chest.

“First of all, don’t jump out like that,” he said as he made sure all of his bandages were hidden under his sleeves. “Second… I, uh… had a, uh, really bad… allergy… attack. Like, hives  _all over_  my body and face. I had to get allergy testing and stuff, and I was on constant antihistamines for, like, three days.” The story was definitely not very believable, and Virgil could see in Mrs. Miller’s eyes that she didn’t believe him at all.

“Sure. Anyway, we’re going to be working on banners or helping clean the lab. You can choose either since I know you’re probably almost done with your banner. Or you  _are_  done, which wouldn’t be surprising.” Virgil nodded and headed to the back, tying one of the ink-covered aprons around his waist and began to spray solvent onto one of the many barely-used rags from the discard. He muttered under his breath about how the other students needed to learn that rags were meant to be absolutely  _filthy_  when they were discarded, but he ultimately let it go.

Virgil slipped his headphones on and cleaned three screens and a few pallet knives in a blissful bubble of music. His cathartic cleaning session, however, came to a quick end when he had cleaned everything in the shop in just under an hour. With a whole twenty-five minutes left. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if he wasn’t mostly finished with his project. 

Without any surprise, it took him only five minutes to put finishing touches on his banner. He sighed and sent it to the color printer. Might as well turn it in if he’s done, right? Virgil trudged to the printer and took out the streaky mess. The printer, just to his luck, had been having problems with colored bars randomly showing up on people’s prints, and his was not the exception. As well, it all happened right in the part with the smaller, thin lettering that named the bands.

“Hey, Mrs. Miller. Can I just send you a PDF of the banner? The printer chewed up my design and spat it back out.” Virgil asked as he walked to his teacher’s office door and leaned on the door frame. She took a look at the paper he was holding up and sighed.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I just called IT yesterday and had them fix the printer. That thing is a disaster.” Mrs. Miller shook her head and waved Virgil over. “Let me see your design.”

Virgil hesitated but stepped forward, dropping the paper on her desk. He tugged his hands into his sleeves as his teacher scrutinized the paper. With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Miller set it back on her desk.

“It’s pretty plain, Virgil. Like, it certainly meets all of the criteria for the project, and is definitely good enough to be a perfect grade, but... Virgil, what happened to your amazing designs? This is…  _bland_. Pretty--don’t get me wrong--but bland.” The teen felt the blood rush from his body in one fell swoop. He hadn’t wanted to let her down! He had just thought that it fit the aesthetic of the festival better. But at the same time, he thought back to his past few designs, and the results were disappointing at best. She was right. They were bad.

“I… I’m sorry. You’re right; it sucks.. I’ll go redesign it. Just--yeah.” Virgil swung around and made a motion to leave when Mrs. Miller called after him. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around.

“Virgil. It’s  _fine_. I don’t want you to get upset about it. I’m just saying that you haven’t been acting like yourself recently, and it shows in your work. Art is full of emotion, so when the artist feels down, the art reflects that.”  Virgil could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head, feeding him with self-doubt and fear. He had wanted to hide his feelings better--it was his  _responsibility_  to hide everything away inside of himself. Feelings hurt others, and if he had to suffer to keep others safe, then that’s what he had to do. An icy chill shot through his veins at the same time as hot fire. He needed  _out_.

He curtly nodded and walked out of the office. As he sat down in his chair, he took out his phone to text Patton, but realized he hadn’t asked for his number. That just added to his anxiety--how would he be able to meet up with Pat and the others after school to get a ride home? The panic began to rise up his chest until he couldn’t bear it anymore. With all of the false calm he could muster, Virgil asked Mrs. Miller if he could to go to the bathroom, to which she obviously said yes.

His footsteps pounded down the hallway as he ran, even though the nearest bathroom was just a few yards away. Virgil slammed the stall door shut, sliding to the floor with a sob. This wasn’t supposed to be difficult. He had a friend now, and he was so sweet and kind and caring. Not to mention he was living with said friend and his equally-as-nice family, who gave him a really wonderful room and fed him and took care of  _him_. They even fucking committed  _insurance fraud_  for him even though they knew nothing about him.

Virgil rolled up his sleeve and began to harshly scratch his forearm where there were no bandages. He needed to relieve the icy hot pain he felt. He needed it out of his body. His mind was racing, going to conclusions that didn’t even make  _sense_ , until he lost track of time. The bell for the next period might have rang, but he had no idea. Looking down at his arm, Virgil realized that his long nails had dragged shallow, bloody cuts into his skin. 

It made him feel like a failure. He’d made it,  _what_ , all of  _five days_  without self harm just to break it over a stupid banner design that he was going to get a good grade on anyway!

His shaky hands dug the phone out of his pocket and turned it on. Patton…  _What the hell is his name?!_ Patton… Patton  _Shea_! That was his name. Virgil shakily typed out Pat’s name into the google search bar and scrolled through the results, trying to find any of Patton’s social media. He clicked on the fifth link and practically cried with relief at the discovery of Patton’s Instagram. It’d been updated… Yesterday. Good. He used it often, then. And, by the look of it, he replied almost immediately to comments, so he probably had notifications on. Virgil opened the account in the Instagram app, typing out a sloppy DM through his tears.

 

> **vintage-misery to patton-cake24 _[Read at 9:15 am]_**
> 
> pat i ‘m in t he ba t hroom by teh grph cs romo i’m havnig a panic attackk hlep vriigl

> **patton-cake24 to vintage-misery _[Delivered at 9:15 am]_**
> 
> It’s okay, Virge. I’ll be there in a few minutes, just hang tight, and I’m gonna help you. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.

Virgil let his phone slip out of his hand, attempting to marginally calm himself down before Patton arrived. It didn’t really work, and before long, a set of footsteps echoed off of the tile walls of the bathroom.

“Virge? You in here? It’s just me, kiddo. Everything’s okay.” Patton’s voice was hesitant, clearly unsure if he was in the right place. Virgil reached up and unlocked the stall door to let Pat in. “Oh thank goodness.”

Tears immediately began to roll down Virgil’s face again. “I-I’m sorry. IreallyfuckedupandIcouldn’tevenmakeitaweekwithouthurtingmyselfI’msuchafuckingfailurePatton _whatdoIdo_?” Patton closed the stall door and kneeled in front of his panicking friend.

“Hey, it’s okay. Any recovery comes with relapse, okay? You’re not a failure; you’re just healing.” Pat’s voice was soft and soothing. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Virgil nodded, and Patton took his hands from his face, gently holding them in his own. “What is your name?”

“I-- _what_?” the crying teenager asked.

“What’s your name?” Patton repeated.

“V-Virgil.”

“Good. Now, what color is your sweatshirt?”

“Grey.”

“Awesome. You’re doing great. Do I wear glasses?”

“Y-yeah. You do.”

“Good. Really good. Now follow my counting. Four beats in, seven beats holding your breath, eight beats out. One, two…”

It only took a few minutes to get Virgil back to a stable state through breathing exercises and rhythmic hand squeezes. Patton had a big smile on his face.

“That was so good, kiddo! I’m really proud of you,” Patton encouraged. The sound of the bell dully rang through the bathroom, and Virgil rushed to stand up. Pat forced him back down.

“I know I just said that was good, but you definitely aren’t in any sort of condition to be rushing around in crowded hallways yet. We’re going to stay right here and make sure you’re a-okay before we leave. I’m going to get you a pass to your next class, okay? I’ll be right back--don’t move.” Patton released his grip on Virgil’s hands and stood up, swiftly striding out of the bathroom. He returned only a minute later with two yellow slips, Virgil’s graphics supplies, and a few tissues. Pat gently wiped the tears away from his friend’s face, making sure not to smear any of the makeup under his eyes.

“ _Patton_ …” Virgil didn’t have the words to say what he was feeling. He was sorry for dragging Pat into this mess, but even more sorry for failing to not harm himself for even an entire week.

“Hey, it’s okay. Now, let me see where you’re hurt so it doesn’t get any worse,” Patton ordered, though it was more caring than harsh. Virgil held his left arm out and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie. The skin just below his elbow had flakes of dry blood on it, following the scrapes that he’d formed. Patton took a roll of gauze he’d taken from the Child Guidance room and wrapped it around the wounds. The gauze wouldn’t exactly help heal anything, but it would prevent unnecessary pain from the sweatshirt rubbing over it.

Once he was done, Patton sat down beside Virgil. “Do you think you could tell me what made you feel so anxious? It’s okay if you can’t, but it’ll help if we know what to avoid in the future.”

“Okay, well,” Virgil groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “ _God_ , this is so  _stupid_. I shouldn’t have even panicked about it, but my graphics teacher is really nice and stuff, and she likes my work. So, naturally, she starts to notice that my designs are becoming less me and are more boring. Like, still good enough, but just without the usual feeling in them. And this has been going on for a while, pretty much ever since March when I started to get extremely depressed and anxious. And today I gave her my latest design for a project we were doing, and she told me that it was uninspired and boring, which it  _was_  but that’s not the point, and she wasn’t impressed with my work anymore, and it just started to get into my skin that she  _knew_  that I was super depressed, and that now it was a big deal. I felt like a giant failure for my designs being lame and I just--It’s  _stupid_. Never mind.” The teen leaned forward to rest his head on his knees. He felt so tired.

Patton spoke up after a moment. “No feelings are stupid, kiddo. I’m sure it was really hard on you to hear what your teacher said, but she obviously just cares about you. Just like I care, hon. Next project, you’re just going to have to channel your emotions into whatever you’re making, and I’m sure it’ll turn out amazing. You’re not a failure in anyone’s eyes.  _Especially_  not mine.” Virgil felt his friend’s arms slither around his waist for an awkward hug. A little smile crept on his face from the very Patton gesture.

They sat in the bathroom stall for another couple of minutes before they decided they were good enough to get back to class.

“Give me your phone so you won’t have to find my Instagram again,” Pat said and held his hand out for the phone. Patton quickly typed his number in, sending a text to himself.

 

> _**Virgil** _
> 
> _Delivered at 8:35 am_
> 
> hey

> _**Patton** _
> 
> _Read at 8:35 am_
> 
> Hey Virge!

> _**Virgil** _
> 
> _Delivered at 8:35 am_
> 
> patton was that really necessary to reply to your own text to yourself

> _**Patton** _
> 
> _Read at 8:36 am_
> 
> It sure was!!!! Let’s get back to class!! :P

Virgil rolled his eyes and slipped his phone back into his pocket. The pair walked out of the bathroom and went their separate ways.


	8. bitterly jittery and actually very glittery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: worry, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, food mentions, eating, rants about nutrition, boredom, logan being a mother hen, possibly something else

 

> _**Virgil** _
> 
> _Sent at 11:30 am_
> 
> um, hey pat. where do you guys sit for lunch?

Virgil stood awkwardly at the side of the cafeteria trying to scan the crowd for familiar flashes of blue, but didn’t see anyone who even slightly resembled Patton. He’d barely made it through advisement and second block in one piece; his teachers berated him with questions on where he’d been and, consequently, how he’d gotten into the hospital. He was anxious to see his friend.

“Hey, Virgil!” a voice cheerily said behind him. Virgil whipped around and found Roman and Logan standing with expectant faces. It was only now that he saw how vastly different their heights were.

“Oh my god, you guys scared the shit out of me! A little warning would be appreciated next time.” Virgil used his lunch tray to angrily gesture at the pair of friends.

Logan pursed his lips. “We apologize, Virgil. Patton told us to look for you once we’d gotten to the cafeteria so that you wouldn’t get lost, but you were obviously faster than us. We’ll show you to the table.” Logan led him to a lunch table in the far corner, away from all of the commotion.

“Virge! Are you feeling better?” Pat greeted as they walked up. He cleared a space beside himself for Virgil, while Logan and Roman sat across from them.

“Um, I guess.” Virgil slid his tray onto the table and awkwardly maneuvered himself so he was sitting on the bench.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?” Logan questioned, concern flashing on his face. Virgil opened his mouth to reply, but Patton spoke up instead.

“He’s had a kinda bad day since he missed so much school last week, Lo. Virge’s totally okay health-wise, so don’t worry,” Patton assured, patting Virgil on the head. The receiver of the pat groaned softly, but he still gave a small smile to his friend. Patton just had this aura that made Virgil feel calm.

“Well, I hope your day gets better, Halloween Town,” Roman commented as he took a bite of his sandwich, careful not smudge any of his lipstick.

“Additional affirmation.” 

Virgil just nodded at their sentiments and stirred the cream and tan gloop on his tray. It was actually his favorite school lunch: mashed potatoes with turkey and gravy. However, just because it  _was_  his favorite, that didn’t mean it didn’t look (nor smell, sometimes) like hot vomit. He stabbed the soupy meal and took a bite. When Virgil looked up from his food, he found the other three staring at him.

“Um… What’s up, guys?” He asked, suddenly self conscious. A beat passed before Roman spoke.

“You… electively eat that stuff?” The dramatic teen pointed at the wilted lettuce and mashed potatoes with disgust.

Virgil nodded slowly. “Yeah? I mean, I don’t usually have the stuff to make my own lunch, and I’ve been eating school lunches for the past eleven-ish years, so I’m mostly desensitized to it. It’s fucking gross, but it’s food at least.” He punctuated his point by taking another bite of the glop. Logan paled.

“That cannot have any nutritional value. It’s all starches and fake meat; there’s barely any protein in the meat substitute they use because it’s ‘much cheaper’ that way! I mean, it’s practically criminal to be feeding that to children, especially since they need all of the nutrition they can get to  _grow_.” Logan ran his hands through his hair in distress and dug around in his paper lunch bag. “Here! Please just eat some soup with  _real_ meat.”

Virgil hesitantly took the blue and black thermos and unscrewed the lid. Inside there was a pretty decent amount of what looked like chicken noodle soup. “Uh, thanks, Logan. But I don’t have-”

Lo held out a plastic spoon.  _Ah_. Virgil took that as well and began to eat. It was way better than the lunch he’d bought. He idly listened to the others as they talked about their classes and what they planned on doing after school. He heard something about maybe going to a park, but Virgil wasn’t really sure if they meant a playground or one where you could bike around and go swimming.

“So what do you think, Virge?” Patton asked, making him jump.

“What do I think about what?” He, admittedly, had stopped listening a while ago and had ended up just drinking from his water bottle and staring at his lunch tray.

“Would you like to go to a party at the Westview park tonight? A few of our friends thought of a rather fantastic idea where they transform the picnic area into a mystical wonderland, and we all can have dinner together,” Roman explained, using vivid hand gestures as he spoke. At one point, he almost flung his hand straight into Logan’s face.

Virgil scrunched up his nose, weighing the pros and cons. “I dunno, guys. I don’t know any of your friends. Wouldn’t I just be intruding on your fun?”

“Of course you wouldn’t, kiddo! I’m sure Valerie and Jo and everyone else would love to meet you!  _Especially_  Talyn. They have a very similar style to you.” Patton’s voice was encouraging, but Virgil still wasn’t sure.

“Let me think about it for a bit. I’ll let you know tonight.” He got up to dump his tray, arriving back to the table just as the lunch bell rang. The four friends said their goodbyes and went to class.

—

The rest of the day passed pretty painlessly. Virgil finished all of his homework in class with tons extra time to spare. He texted Patton to stop his boredom.

 

> _**Virgil** _
> 
> _Read at 1:10 pm_
> 
> pat I finished all of my homework what should i do?

> _**Patton** _
> 
> _Delivered at 1:11 pm_
> 
> You could do some doodling! That’s always a fun pastime for me when I’m bored in class.

Virgil looked down at his papers, which were filled with designs for letterheads for Pat, Logan, and Roman.

 

> _**Virgil** _
> 
> _Read at 1:13 pm_
> 
> uhhhh yeah i kinda already filled up three pages with doodles

> _**Patton** _
> 
> _Delivered at 1:13 pm_
> 
> Okay, well, are you listening to music?

> _**Virgil** _
> 
> _Read at 1:14 pm_
> 
> yeah i’m listening to my playlist. any other ideas

> _**Patton** _
> 
> _Delivered at 1:16 pm_
> 
> …doodle some more?

> _**Virgil** _
> 
> _Read at 1:17 pm_
> 
> yeah okay i’ll try that again, pat :)

—

Later that evening, after Logan had dropped them off at Patton’s house, Virgil and Pat were lounging on the black comforter in the former’s bedroom, listening to music and helping each other with various things for school. Patton was still  _extremely_  confused about physics.

“Alright. You got these force and acceleration questions perfectly fine, but I don’t think these friction questions are quite right,” Virgil pointed out the minor flaws in the calculations with a pencil before walking his friend through the problem step by step.

“ _Ohhhhhhh_. That makes a lot more sense.” Pat looked over the paper and flipped his notebook shut, clearly done with homework for the day. “So, have you thought about the party at all?”

Virgil sighed. He’d hoped Patton would’ve forgotten that they’d invited him to come along so he wouldn’t have to disappoint him. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

Patton’s face fell ever so slightly, though he still had a smile on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go. We just thought you might enjoy it. Logan’s going to be picking me up soon, so I should probably start getting ready.” He stood up and began to head for the bedroom door.

“Actually, I would like to go,” Virgil rushed before he could even think about what he was saying. He  _really_  needed better self control.

“Really? That’s awesome! You don’t have to dress up, but we’re having a bit of a fantasy theme, so you can do whatever you’d like with that. I’m just going to put some glitter in my hair.” Virgil perked up at the idea of dressing up.

“Um, Pat, if you want me to do some makeup on you, I can. I’m not that great, but I can put some glittery eyeshadow and stuff on your face,” he offered, already planning what he’d do for himself.

“That’d be great, kiddo! I’ll be right back; I want to grab a different sweater.” When Patton returned, he was wearing a black jumper with little shimmery strands of thread woven into it. He truly looked magical.

Virgil rounded up the few pieces of makeup that’d been taken from his house and sat Pat at the end of his bed, swinging his desk chair around and sitting in front of his friend. He first applied eye primer and then began to pat on different glittery shades of purple and blue and smoking them out with a little bit of black. Then he applied the same shadows under Patton’s eyes and gave him just a bit of mascara (Patton wouldn’t sit still for that part, and Virgil just gave up on trying). He dusted a bunch of white shimmery eyeshadow to the highlight points and swiped deep blue lipstick onto his lips.

Virgil leaned back to admire his work. “Pat, you look absolutely glittery.” A smile spread across his friend’s face as he began to bounce lightly on the bed

“ _LetmeseeletmeseeVirgilletmesee!_ ” Patton squealed. Virgil obliged, handing him a little compact mirror and as Pat looked in awe at himself.

“Are you going to do yourself next?  _Oooo_ , can I watch?” Patton inquired, looking more excited than ever. Virgil nodded and began to apply makeup to himself. He chose a darker look, applying deep purple and black to his eyes and expertly drawing a sharp wing with eyeliner. His lips were colored with a matching purple and he swiped some glittery lavender highlighter on his cheekbones. Raising his eyebrows, Virgil looked at Pat for his opinion.

“ _Virgilohmygoodnessyoulookabsolutelyfantastic_!” Patton held his hands over his face in a childish but sweet gesture.

“Aww, thanks, Pat.” Virgil smiled brightly and stood up, padding his way to where he’d thrown all of his shoes, and chose a pair of black high tops that had secret heels in them. It was just the little touch of femininity that his outfit needed to tie everything together. He slipped on a black beanie that he’d also thrown into the shoe pile and sat back down beside the still-gawking Patton.

“You good, dude? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Virgil commented with a tiny smirk. Patton aggressively threw his arms around Virgil, tackling him onto the bed.

“I’M JUST SO  _PROUD_  OF YOU! YOU LOOK SO CONFIDENT, AND I’M PROUD OF THAT!” Virgil laughed and awkwardly tried to return the hug-tackle.

“Okay, Patton. I get it. Now can you please stop half-laying on top of me?” Patton just hugged him harder.


	9. dance of the sugar plum faries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: panic attacks, yelling, anger, pranks, roman’s a bit of an asshole but he really doesn’t mean to be, hyperventilation, self hatred, self deprecation, food mentions, possibly something else
> 
> (title is from the nutcracker)

Uproarious laughter burst out of Patton and Virgil as soon as they saw Logan standing in the driveway, leaning on his car. The usually sharply dressed teen was covered from head to toe in pink glitter; although, the sparkly flakes did nothing to hide the irritated expression and folded arms.

“Yes, I get it,” Logan growled. “I look like a fairy threw up on me, okay? Roman decided that it would be fun to throw a metric ton of glitter onto me.” He glared through the window to glare at the beaming Roman. “Just get in the damn car.”

Patton and Virgil stifled their laughter as they slid into their seats. They all buckled their seatbelts and began their short journey to Westview Park. Roman shifted around and looked at his friends’ “costumes.”

“Patton, you look wonderful! I love the colors! And Jack Skellington, you look very…  _sparkly_  today. It suits you,” Roman complimented. He had an equally sparkly look on his face, but his palette was all pinks and golds.

“Aww, kiddo! All the praise should go to Virge, though. He’s the one who did all the work.” Patton gestured to where Virgil was sitting to his left.

“It’s… It’s not really that big of a deal, Pat.” Virgil was glad the foundation he had on covered the light blush that spread across his face. Roman, however, looked extremely affronted.

“Don’t say that, Virgil! Your skills are fantastic!”

Virgil crinkled his nose and turned to look out the window. “What…  _ever_ …”

Patton and Roman began a very passionate discussion about how excited they were for the party with Logan interjecting every so often to correct their word usage. Virgil’s mind wandered, going over all of the possible outcomes of the night’s party. He hadn’t actually thought over everything that could happen, and his anxiety had been steadily increasing. The sudden stopping of the car jerked him out of his train of thought, bringing him back to the present.

As soon as Virgil stepped out of the car, a heavy, grainy weight was dumped onto him. Tiny specks of pink glitter rained from his shoulders and down his face.

“ _Are you kidding me_?” Virgil shouted, whirling to his left to give the grinning Roman a frustrated look.

“Oh, come on, Cinderella. It’s just a bit of glitter. It won’t hurt you!” The shorter boy smirked at him, which only added to Virgil’s rage.

“This shit is going to be lining my clothes for  _weeks_! How am I supposed to keep up my ‘don’t talk to me’ look if I have flecks of pink shimmery plastic everywhere?” Virgil stalked away before he could get an answer, deciding a bit of space from Glinda the Good would be helpful for his nerves.

Quickly, though, Patton caught up with the glitter-covered teen. “Hey, kiddo. Are you okay? Ro doesn’t always think things all the way through before he acts.” 

Virgil sighed and shook some of the glitter from his hair. “I’m fine, it’s just… I don’t know. There are a lot of people that are going to be here that I don’t know, and I was already freaking out about what they’ll think of me, and now I’m freaking  _coated_  in glitter. My anxiety was already killing me, but now it’s just gotten worse,” he explained. He hated the way his voice shook as he spoke-- _loathed_  that it symbolized his blatant weakness.

“Hey, it’ll be okay! Don’t forget that Logan is also very glittery at the moment. Plus, our friends aren’t going to judge you for one of Roman’s pranks! They’ve been on your end, too,” Patton assured as he wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulders, giving him a light squeeze.

“Pat! Who’s the new friend? Did Roman throw glitter on them?” a light voice called from ahead.

“Valerie, hey! This is Virgil. He’s the newest addition to the fam I-L-Y,” Patton replied before whispering to Virgil. “I think you’re really going to like her; she’s super bubbly and ni--”

Before Pat could finish his sentence, he was suddenly tackled away from Virgil by a small body with pink and blue hair. “Talyn! Oh my goodness. It's been too long since we’ve hung out. Look at your hair!”

Virgil stood in awe at the commotion all around him. Everyone here seemed like such good friends… And then there was  _him_. All alone and knowing that he didn't truly belong here.  _God_ , it had been so  _stupid_  to accept the party invitation.

“Hello, Virgil,” Logan greeted as he walked up to Virgil, stopping right next to him in his glitter-covered glory. “I see you're not much for the excitement either.”

“I, uh… yeah. It's a little bit too much for me.” Virgil awkwardly coughed, punctuating his sentence with a sharp nod.

“Don't worry. This will all be over soon, and then we can all get to actually making regular conversation instead of dealing with pleasantries.”

“Uh, yeah…” Virgil said with confused nod, though Logan had already walked away to talk with someone in an orange beanie.

Without any good reason to still be standing in the middle of the grass, Virgil made his way to the nearest pavilion to sit down. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and began to click around, not actually doing anything of meaning. Virgil felt so out of place; the stifling isolation weighed heavily on his shoulders. And then he suddenly couldn't breathe.

This wasn't the normal hyperventilation, this was overpowering and rendered him a gasping mess. Barely any air was entering Virgil’s body, and sharp, fiery pain shot through his lungs. He could feel lis chest tightening, and his heart was pounding, trying  _desperately_ to get something to happen.

A set of hands grabbed him lightly, one on his left shoulder and the other laying softly right over his heart. “I need you to follow me. Breathe in through your nose for four counts,” a gentle tapping beat thumped on his chest.

_One, two, three, four._

“And hold for seven.”

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven._

“And release for eight through your mouth.”

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight._

Each breath was dreadfully painful, but after a few cycles, his breathing was back to a fairly normal rate. Talyn--or at least that's what he thought they were called--had been the one to notice him and go through the exercise with him. He was infinitely grateful for them.

“There you go. You did great, Virgil. That was a really bad attack you were having; are you okay? Do I need to get Logan to drive you back home?” Talyn asked, stepping back and dropping their hands at their sides. They had a concerned expression on their face; one that rivaled even Patton’s.

“I, uh… I think I'll be okay.” Each few words were punctuated with a sharp cough.  _Fuck_ , that hurt.

Talyn gave him a knowing look, but didn’t press any further. As Talyn walked away, Patton ran up to Virgil and flung himself onto the bench.

“Are you--” a fit of coughs from Virgil cut off Pat’s worrying. “That answers that. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling anxious? We could’ve gone somewhere away from the crowd for a little to calm you down.”

Virgil ducked his head sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You seemed like you were having so much fun with your friends. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’d  _never_  bother me! Especially not when you’re not feeling great, Virge. I’m not mad at you for not telling me, but I really want you to know that I’ll be willing to help you out if you just ask.” Patton spoke softly, making sure not to overwhelm the anxious teen sitting next to him. Virgil had dealt with enough for one day; he didn’t need an angry Patton on his plate, too.

“I, uh, yeah. I’ll do that,” Virgil mumbled, leaning in gently and resting his head on Patton’s shoulder. They sat like that for a long while, comfortably enjoying the low murmuring of nearby voices, until Virgil finally felt calm.


	10. they need to learn (the value of us)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: food mentions, eating, sex mentions, affair mentions, crude language, swearing, panic attacks, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SELF HARM, suicidal ideation, abusive family members, yelling, fighting, blood, self hatred, self disgust, hurtful conversations, fear, anxiety, anger, homophobia, possibly something else
> 
> (title is from playing the game from mary poppins on broadway)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read the warnings!!!! seriously, shit gets intense in this chapter!!!! if you need a modified chapter that excludes some things, PLEASE feel free to ask me. <3

It had taken a while, but the idea of going and conversing with the others started to warm up to Virgil. Patton had wrapped his arm around Virgil’s waist and held him close, grounding the anxious teen and giving him small bits of courage. Soon, they stood up and and ventured to the main pavilion to introduce Virgil to the other people he hadn’t met yet. There was Jo, who had a really cool cut down the middle makeup look on his face, and Joan, who did the most ridiculous impressions, and Terrence, who was the biggest ball of energy in such a small body.

For once, it was actually  _enjoyable_  for Virgil to meet new people. Years of being almost completely alone--save for a few friends here and there and his shitty ex-boyfriend--had turned him almost completely solitary. At the party, he still clung to Patton like a scared five-year-old, but he felt a little more included in the group. When Virgil began to tense up, Patton would place his hand gently on his back to provide a tether to cling on.

After two hours of eating and chatting, the party was over. Patton, Logan, and Roman offered to stay after and help clean up, but Talyn shooed the boys away, saying something about how they didn’t need any help. Virgil knew it was because they wanted him home ASAP after his panic attack, but he couldn’t bring himself mind. He was tired, and all he wanted to do was wash all of this makeup off and  _hopefully_  get most of the glitter off of his body. One day, Roman would pay for this pink glitter catastrophe, but that was a whole other train of thought.

* * *

Patton and Virgil were dropped off at their house just before midnight. Both of the boys got ready for bed, and Virgil was just  _this_  close to falling asleep when Patton softly knocked on his door.

Virgil groaned and rolled over. “Yeah, Pat? What’s up?”

The door softly clicked open, and the soft hall lights filtered in, giving Patton a light yellow glow. He entered quietly and sat on the desk chair, just barely visible in the low light.

“I, uh, just wanted to say thank you for coming to the party tonight. And also to apologize for your panic attack. I shouldn’t have let myself get swept away when you obviously needed some extra support.” Although his tone was sweet and kind, there was deep regret laced in his words.

“Oh, Pat. It’s okay. It wasn’t even your fault that we got separated.” Virgil assured, propping himself onto his elbows.

There was a beat of silence before Patton hesitantly whispered, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Virgil smiled even though it probably couldn’t be seen by Pat. “I’m sure.”

Patton nodded quickly and left, but not before giving Virgil a small thumbs up. Soon, both of the boys were asleep and the rough day was far behind them.

* * *

The next week passed by smoothly. Virgil had a grand total of just three panic attacks (and Patton had come to help with each one) and hadn’t relapsed a single time. He was really proud of himself, as was Patton, and he just felt better about himself. It was liberating to have actual friends to talk to and hang out with. He’d even persuaded Logan to join crew!

And then on that fateful Monday--May first, to be exact--everything came crumbling down. It seemed as if everything bad in the word just happened to fall on a Monday. That just made Mondays even more dreadful.

Virgil’s day had started off like normal. He’d woken up, gotten ready, eaten breakfast with Patton, and went off to school. It was almost ridiculously mundane. It was in second block, however, when the not-so-normal things began to happen.

“Virgil Thomas to Office A, please,” the voice on the speaker crackled.

 _Shit_ , Virgil thought.  _What the fuck did I do this time?_

His teacher gestured at him to leave, so he did. The walk from his math classroom to the office was basically a joke, so he made his way as slowly as possible, going so far as to dawdle by the bubbler for a minute. 

As he walked up to the office, he saw his dad’s “secretary” standing at the doors. “Secretary” being used loosely, since she was, in reality, nothing more than the girl his dad had chosen to have an affair with this month.

“Hey, Virgil,” Nathalie cooed in her irritating voice. It sounded like sandpaper on ceramic plates. “Your dad is back in town and wanted me to let you know.”

“Why didn’t he just text me? He knows that I keep my phone on me at all times.” Virgil knew that he sounded bitter, but he didn’t care when his father was involved.

“He’s been very busy lately.”  _Yeah, probably doing you._  “He hasn’t been able to find a time to take a break from work to text you.”

 _Work_! Who knew that Nathalie could be so  _funny_.

“Right. Well, I’m going to go back to class now, Nat. Bye!” He spun around on his heel and started to walk away when she cut him off.

“Oh, and your father wants you to have dinner with him tonight.” 

_Fucking great._

“Um, I actually had plans with a friend tonight,” Virgil rushed, dancing carefully around his current living arrangements and schedule.

“Why don’t you invite them over? I’m sure your father would love to meet them!” 

 _Sure_  he would! Just like he was so  _fucking_  excited to meet Virgil’s boyfriend or any of his other friends when he’d brought them over.

“Sure. I’ll ask him.” He was never going to be able to get out of it, so he might as well try to get Patton to come along and soften the blow. Virgil walked to the bathroom instead of to his classroom, sitting in the nearest stall with his head in his hands until the bell rang.

* * *

“How do I look, Virge?” Patton modeled the black dress pants and blue polo get up he had on. His grey cardigan was actually on him, instead of hanging off of his shoulders or waist.

“Great! I don’t think Dad’ll have anything bad to say about that.” Virgil was ridiculously worried about his dad ripping the happy-go-lucky boy to absolute  _shreds_. Mr. Thomas wasn’t the nicest or most accepting person on a good day, and any way that Virgil could protect his friend, he would.

“Awesome. Now, what are  _you_  wearing?” Patton’s question was innocent, but sent a small wave of anxiety through Virgil’s body.

“Uh, black jeans, some dress shoes, and a black jumper.” He’d worn this many times in front of his dad, and he hadn’t yet been ridiculed by his father for it. Unlike all of his other clothing.

Already, Virgil had wiped off all of his makeup and styled his hair out of its floppy fringe into a clean-cut look in preparation for the visit to see his dad. Any bandages that might have disrupted his appearance were removed, all scars were covered with foundation, and his whole personality purged of substance. Even his phone case had been switched out from the pretty galaxy case with the halloween Popsockets to the all black case with as much personality as a stick in the mud. It was absolutely  _dreadful_.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll look fantastic, kiddo!”

Yeah.  _Sure_.

* * *

“Alright, guys, have a good time! Just text me when you need to be picked up, Pat,” Mrs. Shea said before driving off, leaving Virgil and Patton stranded at the Thomas residence.

For once, the lights were on inside, giving the house the tiniest sense that it wasn’t vacant. Virgil couldn’t help but wonder which of his father’s chefs was cooking their meal. He hoped that it was Mei, whose food was both fancy enough to meet Mr. Thomas’ high expectations but held a sense of casualness that appealed to Virgil. 

The pair walked up to the front door and rang the bell, sending a custom chime echoing through the house. Almost instantly, a mildly-disheveled Nathalie opened the door, grinning ridiculously widely.

“Virgil! Who’s your friend, here?” She greeted with faux cheeriness.

“Uh, this is Patton. He’s a friend from school,” Virgil paused, unable to focus when he could see a white stain on Nat’s mouth. He motioned up to his lips with a small grimace. “You’ve got a little… something… on your mouth, Nathalie.”

 _Gross_. He didn’t even want to think about what had been happening just moments before.

Nathalie wiped gently at her mouth with the back of her hand, being extra careful not to smudge her pristine red lipstick. Opening the door wider, she motioned the boys inside. Virgil led the way to the dining room, not even bothering to wait for Nathalie.

“Oh, Virgil,” Mr. Thomas said as they walked into the dining room. “I didn’t realize you’d brought someone along.”  _Shocking._  “Is this another one of your ‘boyfriends?’”

A pinched smile spread across Virgil’s face. “No, dad. I’m not dating anyone. This is my school friend, Patton Shea.”

“Hey, Mr. Thomas. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Patton’s happy voice lightened up the room’s atmosphere just the slightest amount, which all but astounded Virgil.

“Virgil could take some fashion notes from you, Patton. He’s always wearing those stupid looking skinny jeans and t-shirts. You look quite impressive and professional for a teenager,” Mr. Thomas commented, adjusting his glasses in a Logan-like manner. That was apparently all he had to say as he took a bite of the food in front of him.

Much to Virgil’s disappointment, it wasn’t Chinese. Apparently, the first dinner you’d have with your son in literal  _months_  wouldn’t be complete without a giant French buffet--complete with dessert.

“I--Thanks?” Pat stuttered, confused by the backhanded compliment. Virgil disregarded the comment, instead choosing to lead his friend to the table. They sat close enough to his dad to be considered polite, but it was definitely farther than an appropriate familial distance.

The three ate in silence for a few minutes before Mr. Thomas spoke again. “So, Patton, what are you planning on doing after high school? Virgil said he wanted to be a graphic designer, but he’s probably going to take up the family business. Arts degrees are just a waste of time and money; better to strive to be successful on the first try and not have to go back.”

Patton stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I was planning on going to school to be a therapist, but being a stay-at-home dad seems like a pretty nice idea, too.”

“Psychology is an interesting subject; I’d have to agree.” Mr. Thomas shifted his focus to his son. “Now, Virgil, what did you say you wanted to focus on in school? Something with video making?”

“It was video game design, but I’m not going after that, anymore. It was a stupid fever dream.” None of the food on Virgil’s plate was making it to his mouth; it had merely been stirred into a gloopy mess. He already felt like shit about himself, but leave it to his dad to be make him feel even worse.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.” Virgil all but jumped up and sprinted from the room. 

Within a few seconds, he locked the door to the upstairs bathroom behind him. Virgil turned his head and stared at the reflection in the mirror. It looked  _nothing_  like him. The Virgil in the mirror was normal; he had no flaws, and he was the perfect son. His goals were steep but attainable, and he never said anything out of line. The  _real_  Virgil was anything but.

The  _real_  Virgil was a gigantic disappointment. He wanted to go into the arts, not business management. He had an attitude problem and a “screw The Man” ideology that ended up getting him into more trouble that necessary, yet he never changed his ways. The  _real_  Virgil was an emotional mess, not knowing how to properly express himself except through suicide or self harm. He was  _pathetic_  and  _stupid_  and, quite frankly, “too gay to function,” as his dad would say. There was no place in this world for the real him. Every single fucking time that his father was around, the façade was put up in some wimpy attempt to deflect some of the hateful words that would  _always_  be thrown his way.

And that’s when he broke. Tears streamed down his face, and choked sobs ran through his body. He thought he’d been getting better, but who was he kidding? This was the same old Virgil who’d attempted suicide not once--not twice. No, he’d attempted to fucking kill himself  _four times_. But thank  _god_  that he’d survived! The world  _obviously_  needed Virgil Thomas’ fucking presence to keep it spinning.

Virgil gripped at his hair. He’d left his phone at the table, but he needed an escape from the emotions berating him.

_Think, Virgil! There’s gotta be something that can help you._

His blurry eyes scanned the counter before landing on a familiar piece of metal.

 _Yes_.

Virgil reached out and grabbed the blade, flipping it open with ease. Memories of the past flitted through his mind. Ones where he’d said “just one last time” with false hopes that it’d be true, but the very next day, he’d be back in this bathroom, washing blood out of the tub.  _Weakness_. Had he included that on his list? Because Virgil Thomas was  _weak_.

“ _Just one last time_ ,” he mocked as the blade sliced the skin of his forearm.

 _ **Pathetic**. What kind of fucking _child _do you have to be to continually come back to a blade to solve your problems?_

Another cut. And another. It was so calming--so  _ridiculously_  relaxing to watch the red blood splatter on the perfectly white floor where it mixed with his tears to make a watercolor painting.

_Faggot. Nobody will love someone who’s gay, loser! Think of Jason. He **ruined**  you._

A knock on the door jerked Virgil out of his daze, making him drop the knife in the process.

“Hey, Virgil? Are you okay? I can hear you crying, kiddo,” Patton worried; his words filtered through the door with a slight resonance.

“I’m fine, Patton. Don’t worry.”  _Yeah fucking right._

“Virge, please just let me in.” There was no way that Patton would take no for an answer.

“Okay.” Virgil pulled his sleeves down harshly, smearing a bit of blood onto his hands. He stepped in front of the blade and blood, trying to hide it from Pat’s prying eyes as he opened the door. A fake smile was plastered onto Virgil’s face. “See--”

“Is that  _blood_?” Patton gasped and snatched Virgil’s wrists up. With an unprecedented gentleness, he rolled up the jumper sleeves that had started to plaster themselves to his arms. The look of worry on Pat’s face soon turned to one of pure anger.

_He’s mad. You’ve upset him, and he’s going to kick you out. Maybe he’s finally realized what a mistake it was to save you--_

“How  _dare_  your dad think he can say things like that to his own son! You deserve so  _fucking_  much, Virgil--in fact, you deserve the  _world_. Yet here’s this  _asshole_  who won’t give you a god damn  _break,_ bringing you to hurt yourself because he can’t keep his  _idiocy_  to himself! Grab that towel; we’re going downstairs.” Patton stormed out the room and down the stairs. Virgil followed a few paces behind, terrified out of his mind.

“Mr. Thomas! With all due respect--which is  _none_ , by the way--who the absolute  _fuck_  do you think you are to think that it’s okay to ridicule your own child like that?” Virgil’s dad opened his mouth to speak, but Pat cut him off. “ _No!_  You fucking listen to me; you’re a  _terrible_  father! Your child should never be brought to self harm as a coping mechanism--especially not by his own fucking  _father_. Are you fucking kidding? Who gave you the right to do this? First, you spend all of your time away from Virgil, and then you go about barely ever talking to him, and to top it all off, you give him shit for everything that he has a  _fucking_  passion for!”

Both Virgil and his father were completely silent. Neither had expected such an outburst from the docile kid between them.

After a long few moments, Virgil said, “Let’s go, Pat.”

Virgil and Patton quickly left the house, not stopping until they were a street away. Patton called his mom to tell her to pick them up, and they sat on the curb to wait.

“Thank you, Patton. For standing up to me. Nobody’s ever done that before.” Virgil’s voice was soft and genuine. A little fluttering sensation rose in Pat’s stomach as he leaned towards his friend.

“It’s no problem, Virge.”


	11. pose (save your reputation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of abusive family members, crying, mentions of self harm, mentions of suicidal ideation, homophobia, gross/rude comments, rumors, swearing, losing one’s temper, yelling, bullying, bruises, injury due to bullying, internalized homophobia, possibly something else
> 
> (title is from girls/girls/boys by panic! at the disco)

Although Virgil had relapsed since he’d been released from the hospital, Patton was still  _so_  proud of him. He was making a lot of progress towards recovery, and it was wonderful to Pat that his new friend was feeling better about himself. Virgil was, regardless of his moments of weakness, extremely strong.

Virgil held himself together when Patton had practically screamed at his dad. He’d stayed completely calm when he lifted up the towel from his arms to see a bright crimson stain on the pristine white. The poor kid even calmly explained what had happened to Mrs. Shea when she’d arrived to pick them up from the curb.

It was only when they’d gotten home and into Virgil’s room that he broke down in tears. But that didn’t mean he was weak. Tears weren’t  _weak_. Tears meant that Virgil was healthily coping with his problems. That made Patton even more proud; Virgil’s health was his top priority right now, and any progress on it was fantastic.

“Hey, Vi. Do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to, but it might help,” Patton whispered as he softly hugged Virgil.

“Well,” Virgil croaked, taking a few moments to regain his composure. “Obviously, my dad’s never been around. He was rarely at holidays or special occasions; I can count on one hand the amount of times he celebrated his wedding anniversary. He’s stuck up, and he holds ridiculously high expectations for me. I’ve never been able to meet them. To him, I’m a burden. I’m the epitome of everything he hates: punk-rock attitude, artistic, creative, ‘rebellious,’ and all that fun stuff. I will  _never_  please him.”

Patton gave Virgil a little squeeze. “I know this sounds like a bad response, but I still want you to know this: I will  _always_  be proud of you. No matter if you fall down. No matter if you mess up. You are the strongest kid I’ve ever met, Virgil. I love you.”

He could feel Virgil shift in his arms so he’d be able to look Patton in the face. Tear tracks ran down his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy. To be honest, Virgil looked like a hot mess, but that didn’t matter to either of them.

“I love you too, Pat. You’re my best friend.”

Virgil leaned back into Patton, hugging him tighter.

“You’re my best friend, too.”

* * *

Somehow, news of Patton’s bad-assery had spread around the school by Tuesday morning.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?” Virgil hissed, pulling his hoodie closer around his body.

“No! Well, I told Logan and…  _Oh_ … Roman might have  _accidentally_  let it slip to one of his other more popular friends.” Patton scrunched up his face, taking note to scold Roman later. Virgil didn’t need all of this drama centered around him in his life, and obviously this was an extreme breach of privacy.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Virgil groaned and tapped Pat on the arm, pointing to a locker.  _Virgil’s_  locker. A group of kids were surrounding it, looking like they were about to launch themselves at the pair of friends.

“Don’t worry; I’ll deal with them,” Patton assured as he confidently walked to the group. “Hey, guys! Would you mind-”

“ _Oh my god_. Patton! Did you actually punch Virgil’s dad?” The kid at the front looked like he was standing in front of a super hero.

“ _What?_  No!” Virgil had shrunk back at the sudden explosion of voices, but he still came to Patton’s rescue.

“Why did you protect him, Patton?” a cheerleader asked, playfully flipping her ponytail. “He’s a nobody. Oh, or are you two  _dating_?”

Pat recoiled at the invasive questions.

“Oh! I’ve  _always_  wanted a gay friend!” a different cheerleader cut in. Both Virgil and Patton were becoming more uncomfortable by the second. A chorus of voices blanketed them in nonstop stimuli.

“ _Enough!_ For fuck’s sake,  _enough!_ ” Virgil yelled, having reached his limit. Everyone in the hallway froze, staring at the normally quiet loner. He ran a hand through his hair regain some minuscule amount of composure before speaking again.

“To answer your question, no. Patton and I  _aren’t_  dating. And even if we were, it would be exactly none of your business. I can’t personally speak for Pat, but as an actual queer guy, your kind--yeah, I’m talking about all of you cishet assholes--are not the type people that  _anyone_  from the LGBTQ+ community would want to talk to.  _Ever_. We aren’t trivial objects, and we  _certainly_  don’t want to be fetishized by cishets. Now get the  _fuck_  away from my locker.” Virgil’s voice was oddly calm and smooth, the only true indication that he was angry being the icy cold tone he spoke in.

Oh, was Patton  _proud_  of his best friend.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Patton was bombarded with questions from his classmates. There were even a few  _teachers_  that approached him! The whole situation was absolute chaos; the truth had wildly spun out of control, lost in the rumors. Not to mention the fact that Virgil’s whole coming-out-to-the-whole-school stint was beginning to circulate as well. Virgil had texted Patton multiple times every block to vent about “the sheer amount of fucking times these idiots have asked if I am, in fact, queer and if I have a crush on you.”

During lunch, too, hordes of students would come to their table and ask them invasive questions. Some had even been locating Logan and Roman during class to ask them to spill the details. Which, thank god, they didn’t. Roman had well learned his lesson to not--even by accident--tell other people about what was happening in Virgil’s life.

When the boys got home, they flopped onto Patton’s bed and reflected on what the actual  _fuck_  had happened at school.

“Did anyone make fun of you?” Patton asked. Their school wasn’t the most tolerant of LGBTQ+ people, despite its large population of them. In fact, it wasn’t really tolerant in the slightest. That was one of the reason Patton was still closeted himself, as were Roman and Logan. And, even though he was so close to Virgil, he hadn’t gathered the courage to tell his friend.

Virgil paused for just a beat too long before whispering a weak “no…”

“Who was it? I’ll fight them!” Patton had his Dad Voice on.

“Pat, don’t worry about it. I can handle some stupid jocks and their homophobic bullshit.” The lie fell completely flat.

“ _What did they do?_ ” The tone in Patton’s voice was almost scary. Virgil hesitated for a second before he lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal a large bruise blossoming on his chest and stomach.

All the color drained from Pat’s face. “Who. Did. This?”

“I-I can’t tell you. I can’t let you get hurt, too,” Virgil whispered. Patton’s heart shattered at the notion that his friend, who he’d barely known for two weeks, was willing to sacrifice himself to keep Pat safe. It just made Patton want to protect Virgil even more.

As soon as Virgil left the room, Patton called Logan and Roman to formulate their plan.

* * *

Somehow, they were able to hide the rainbow clothing and accessories from Virgil for the whole right to school. The night prior, Logan, Roman, and Patton had gathered up all of their gear from last year’s pride and agreed to wear as much of it as possible. Logan had rainbow tape around the stems of his glasses (hidden carefully under a beanie for the time being) and at least four rubber bracelets that had “I’m fucking gay” stamped onto them, Roman wore his glittery rainbow Converse and a “gay doesn’t just mean happy” shirt hidden under his jacket, and Patton had brought along a pride flag to wear as a cape.

As soon as they’d entered the school, the hiding went out the window. Lo’s beanie was pocketed, Roman removed his jacket and wrapped it around his waist, and Pat drew the flag around his shoulders. Then Patton turned to Virgil and held out a rainbow beanie.

“Since you were so brave and came out to everyone yesterday, we decided to join you. Meet the ‘Queer Quad!’” Students passing began to stare at the blatant queerness, but for once, Virgil didn’t care.

“Fuck yeah!” Virgil took the beanie and slipped it on before addressing the bystanders. “You know, it’s not very polite to stare. Now scram before one of us gays come to make you ‘one of us.’”

“I mean, this can’t be very surprising to you all,” Roman added with a smirk. “Most of us four are theatre geeks, and you know that drama is the club for the gays!”

The crowd immediately rushed away, most likely to begin gossiping about the newly outed group.

A thought came into Virgil’s mind. “Roman, aren’t you worried about what your teammates are going to say? I mean, they’re not even the slightest bit decent, and there is no doubt in my mind that they won’t take this as an opportunity to ream the shit out of you. The other gymnasts are fucking  _brutal_.”

“Prince Darkling, I’ve been hiding myself and my previous boyfriends from the world for too long. And even if they did want to come after me, I’ve got you guys to back me up.”

Patton pulled them all into a group hug. “I’m proud of us. Now, let’s go live our free lives!”

Soon, the rumors had reached the whole school, but it didn’t even bother Virgil this time.


	12. somewhere under the rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: sensory overload, panic attacks, self hate, school dances, swearing, food mentions, kissing, embarrassment, rumors, eating, possibly something else

“So, Virgil. Are you going to prom?” Roman casually asked before popping a french fry in his mouth.

“Um, I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it.” Virgil absently dipped a chicken nugget into the pool of ranch on his tray. He really hadn’t thought about prom that much. Plus, the thought of a whole bunch of his peers stuck in one room together, probably grinding with their respective dates, was not a pleasant one.

“Awww, kiddo! You should go! You could come with us; we’re going to grab dinner and everything,” Patton whined.

“I mean, I guess?” Virgil grimaced as he weighed the options. “But don’t I have to rent a tux? I don’t have money for that, especially not after what happened on Monday. I’d be surprised to find my credit card still working with all of that in mind.”

Logan jumped into the conversation. “You  _would_  have to rent a tux, yes, but the three of us would be more than happy to help cover your expenses. We value you as a member of our friend group, and we wouldn’t exclude you from something just because you couldn’t afford it.”

Virgil opened his mouth to argue, but Roman interjected, “Dude, seriously. Just let us do this for you. It’ll be fun!”

“Plus, Ro already bought you a ticket,” Logan added and held out a small slip of cardstock.  _Westview Junior Prom._

Well, Virgil Thomas was now going to prom.

* * *

“Hey, Pat? Can you help me with my tie?” Virgil called from his bathroom. He had been struggling for the past five minutes trying to figure out the witchcraft behind ties, and he still had zero clue as to what he was supposed to be doing.

“Be right there, kiddo!” It was only a few moments before soft footsteps could be heard approaching, and Patton walked into the bathroom. He’d already mostly finished getting ready sans the fact that his hair was a catastrophic  _mess_. Virgil could guess that he’d been trying to fix it when he’d been called into the other room.

“Alright. Work your magic,” Virgil smirked. In a matter of seconds, Patton had looped and pulled the tie into place, gently tightening it around Virgil’s neck. It was deep purple, picked out specifically because of his dislike of most other colors, and it went very well with the blues and reds of the others’ ties. The tie also matched the freshly dyed purple hair that Roman had forced his three friends to do along with him earlier that afternoon.  _What an ass_.

Virgil admired his reflection. “Dude, what the fuck? How did you do that?” He felt oddly confident in his skin. The same feeling had come about a few times since he’d met Patton, and he had to admit that it was nice. Pat’s happy-go-lucky attitude somehow perfectly meshed with Virgil’s own doom-and-gloom one, forming a hilariously compatible friendship.

Patton smiled and ruffled Virgil hair, much to the other’s dismay. “Now that I helped you, will you  _please_  fix my hair.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“I mean it, Virge! Look at this.” Pat ran his fingers through his hair and aggressively tugged when he reached a clump of knots.

“Okay, yeah, we’re fixing that right now.”

* * *

“Dinner? Really, Patton? You guys couldn’t have told me about this before?” Virgil whined as the four walked into the diner. Yes, a  _diner_ , which meant that they were ridiculously overdressed; every other patron was wearing some sort of flannel and jeans combo. It smelled great, sure, but it was so unexpected that he couldn’t help but feel on edge.

“It’s our favorite restaurant,” Logan explained. “We always come here before school events. Roman has coined it as some sort of weird ritual, but it’s mostly tradition.” He led Virgil to the booth that Patton and Roman had already rushed to sit in.

“Plus, we’re friends with the staff,” Ro started with a smile. “You’ll love them; they’re all super nice. Speaking of, here comes Emilia.”

A young lady with brown hair walked up to their table, pulling out her small notepad. “Well, who do we have here? Another addition to our little group of customers of the month for every month since 2014?”

“Hey, Emilia!” Patton said. “This is Virgil; he’s a new friend of ours. He’s been living with me for a few weeks while his dad is out of the country on business.”

“That’s sweet, Patton. Now, what can I get for you guys?”

The three regulars spouted off their orders, clearly versed in what they wanted to eat. Suddenly, all eyes turned to Virgil. He’d barely been able to look over the menu in the time the others had taken to order.

“Uh… I… Um…” He stuttered. Every drop of intelligence that he had in his body was gone in an instant, and he was left a bumbling mess.

“He’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Patton cut in, saving his friend from any further embarrassment.

“Alright! I’ll be back in a few with your food and a pitcher of water!” Emilia gave the boys another smile before she walked back behind the counter to tend to other customers. Almost immediately, Patton and Roman launched themselves into a fast paced discussion about the upcoming festivities. Virgil, unsurprisingly, not only felt anxious, but he  _also_  felt like a complete idiot. He was just ordering dinner--there was no reason for him to have been so freaked out.

Virgil felt a hand rest on his left shoulder, turning to see Logan with a worried expression etched on his face. “Are you okay? Do you need to step outside for a moment to regain composure? I’d be willing to go with you if you don’t want to be alone.”

“Uh, no. I’m okay. I’m just a little worried. I mean, this is my first proper school event in, like,  _ever_ , and it’s freaking intimidating. You guys go to these things  _multiple times_  a year?” Virgil ran his hands through his hair, distressed.

“I understand. When Roman and Patton first made me come with them to homecoming, I was so nervous that I nearly passed out on the way here. Thankfully, I wasn’t driving us everywhere back then otherwise that would’ve ended in a disaster.” Logan gave Virgil a small smile, adding to the tiny--yet slowly growing--list of his outward displays of emotion. Virgil knew Lo wasn’t an emotionless android, but Roman and Patton were so all over the place that someone needed to play the calm and collected one.

“They can be pretty intense,” Virgil commented with a smile at the enthusiastic conversation across the table from them. Both of the teens were grinning and flinging their hands around in wild gestures, barely avoiding impact.

“Yeah, they sure can.” Logan glanced at the other side of the table with a fond expression, but he quickly snapped out of his reverie. “Don’t worry about the dance. Oh, here!” He pulled a pair of earbuds out of his inside jacket pocket and held them out to Virgil. “It gets pretty loud at these dances. I’ve observed that you put on headphones when it gets too noisy, so I brought these just in case you didn’t have your own.”

Virgil pocketed them just as Emilia finally returned with their food. The other three immediately began to dig in while he hesitantly poked at his burger. He picked up a fry and lazily popped it into his mouth.

He picked at his fries for a few minutes, but he eventually worked his way up to taking a bite of his burger. “Holy shit! This stuff is great--wait, why haven’t you taken me here yet?”

“I was trying to ease you into our friend group, so I thought eating dinner at my house would save you some unnecessary interaction,” Pat explained. “Obviously, that was a crime against your taste buds.”

“Of course it was, Patton. Depriving anyone of this blessed food is practically a war crime!” Roman dramatically stated, throwing out his arms. Virgil snorted at the theatrics.

They continued to eat, and all but Virgil had finished their dinner when Emilia returned to their table for dessert orders. Logan ordered a slice of pecan pie for himself, a chocolate lava cake for Roman, a hot fudge sundae for Patton, and a caramel shake for Virgil. Patton, of course, began to spout off a review of all of the desserts they’d ordered, even though Virgil wouldn’t be eating most of them. They all listened politely, not really absorbing any of the information, until their orders arrived. Within a nanosecond, Pat’s face was stuffed full of vanilla ice cream and fudge sauce, easily and efficiently shutting him up.

They ate in near silence, save for the “light” discussion of whether cake or pie was better (Patton eventually had to cut in when Roman threatened Logan with a butterknife). Pat covered the whole bill once they’d finished, claiming “it’s my way of thanking you guys for putting up with my shenanigans.”

* * *

“Three, two, one!” Roman dramatically counted as he threw the doors to the venue open. Time seemed to freeze as the four friends stepped in; all eyes snapped to them. It had been days since they’d been the topic of gossip at school, but that didn’t mean the student body had lost their interest in the boys.

Roman was at the front of the group, confidently striding to the grand staircase and adjusting his red tie. Logan followed close behind, who looked absolutely  _stunning_  in the sharp suit and deep blue tie. Then was Patton, who was marveling at the cascading flower vines and glittering fairy lights. And last but certainly not least…

 _Virgil_. He had a wary smile on his face, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. The boy made absolutely sure that he didn’t get lost; he kept eyes on Patton the entire time they descended the stairs.

Logan had been right; it was fucking  _loud_. People were screaming left and right, and the music was so loud that Virgil could feel every beat vibrate in his chest. He was lucky that he’d put the earbuds in before they’d arrived, or he never would have stepped inside the venue.

Patton turned around to check on Virgil, obviously sensing the tension building in his friend. He held out his hand for Virgil, who hesitated for just a moment before gently taking it. If people wanted to believe they were together, that wasn’t his problem. It was no skin off his back.

They talked and danced for what felt like hours, and Virgil even joined in on a few of the dances he knew. He was having fun. He smiled and laughed, and it was all genuine! In just a few short weeks, Patton had actually transformed him from a suicidal nightmare into someone who found joy in life. It was a stupid sentiment, and he knew it, but it still brought Virgil a bit of warmth in his chest.

The DJ announced a slow dance.  _Ugh_ , how awful. He had nobody to dance with; it was just—

 _Oh_.

Patton tugged Virgil’s hand lightly, pulling their bodies closer together. “Wanna dance? We don’t have to, of course, but it would be a fun first experience for both of us!”

“I—Uh, sure,” Virgil mumbled, trying to hide his gently growing blush. Pat gently guided Virgil’s hands around his neck and placed his own on Virgil’s waist. For the first time, Virgil noticed that he was just an inch or so taller than his friend. Reveling in the warmth and closeness, the two swayed together to the gentle rhythm.

The song ended, and Virgil stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was extremely grateful that the low light hid his pink cheeks. The screaming resumed as couples broke apart, and early 2000s rap boomed out of the speakers.

And then just like that, Virgil was attacked by anxiety. His hands started shaking, and he rushed away from the small group he was in, mumbling something about going to the bathroom. He calmed slightly when he had made it outside, where he simply collapsed to the ground, but then his panic picked up again when he realized how fucking  _alone_  he was always going to be.

Nobody would love the weird guy who rushes out on social gatherings for no fucking reason! Why should they? Virgil had nothing to offer; he was just a guy who had snark to rival Roman and barely two cents to his name.

Tears streamed down his face, running in dark gray streaks as they mixed with his black eye makeup. He could feel his chest heaving, but little air actually made it into his body. Everything was working overtime yet nothing actually happened. Virgil stayed sobbing on the ground. Nothing. Changed.

“Virge, honey? Do you need me to call my mom and have her pick us up?” Patton slowly lowered himself next to Virgil, talking softly so that he woudn’t stir up anything worse.

“N-No! I’ll… I’ll…  _Fuck_!” Virgil cried as he ripped the earbuds out of his ears. He threw the cord a few feet away, instantly regretting it as the sound of shattering plastic reached his ears. He’d have to buy Logan new ones. He couldn’t  _afford_  to replace them.

“Goodness gracious, Virgil. It’s okay. I’m going to call Logan, and we’re going to get you out of here—“

“I-I-I don’t… want t-t-to… ruin… night…” Virgil sputtered. He was having trouble pushing the words out; all of them got stuck in his throat.

Patton carefully began to comb through Virgil’s hair with his fingers in an attempt to soothe the attack. “Don’t worry about that, kiddo. There isn’t much more fun to be had, anyway. We still love you— _I_  still love you.”

That’s it. That’s what he felt.  _Love_. He  _loved_  Patton.

All of the impulse control he had—though, truthfully, there was very little to begin with—left his body. He reached out and brought Pat’s face to his own, lightly kissing him. Patton stiffened for a fraction of a second before relaxing into the kiss. They were both going to regret this later, but what did that matter in the moment?


	13. settle down (it'll all be clear)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: kissing, mentions of panic attacks, crying, anxiety, worry, self hate, journaling, swearing, depression, flashback to the first chapter (same warnings apply to the first one), possibly something else?
> 
> (title is a shitty reference to home by phillip phillips)

Virgil’s lips were so  _soft_. That was the only thought that ran through Patton’s mind. Heat rose to his cheeks as he gently pulled away, raising his fingertips to cover his mouth.

 _Oh my god._ That just happened.

Someone had kissed him. And it wasn’t for their own benefit!

Virgil seemed to have calmed down for the most part, having leaned back on the glass door in awe. He had just done that.  _He_  had done that!

Patton called his mom, asking her to come pick them up. He wouldn’t tell Virgil, but their little, uh,  _incident_  made him worried that there would be more anxiety to follow if they stayed. He then shot a few texts to Logan so that he’d know what happened.

 

> **_Patton_ **
> 
> _Read 9:47_
> 
> Hey, kiddo! Virgil and I are going to head home. He had a bit of a panic attack, so I called my mom to pick us up

> **_Logan_ **
> 
> _Delivered 9:47_
> 
> I could have driven you two home. Roman ditched me to, presumably, make out with someone.

> **_Patton_ **
> 
> _Read 9:49_
> 
> Sounds about right :P
> 
> **_Patton_ **
> 
> _Read 10:05_
> 
> Logan

> **_Logan_ **
> 
> _Delivered 10:06_
> 
> Yes, Patton?

> **_Patton_ **
> 
> _Read 10:08_
> 
> Uh
> 
> Funny story
> 
> So, uh…
> 
> Virgil
> 
> Kissed me?
> 
> And now we’re holding hands
> 
> What do I do?

> **_Logan_ **
> 
> _Delivered 10:08_
> 
> You what now?
> 
> Patton are you serious?
> 
> Patton?

> **_Patton_ **
> 
> _Read 10:11_
> 
> Sorry I may have kissed him again
> 
> And by may have I mean that I definitely did
> 
> Wow he’s a really great kisser

> **_Logan_ **
> 
> _Delivered 10:11_
> 
> You sound like Roman.

> **_Patton_ **
> 
> _Read 10:11_
> 
> That’s fair 

It wasn’t necessarily a  _surprise_  that Patton liked Virgil. He easily and quickly grew attached to people, which made it simple for him to get along with others. He was liked by most, and he fell in love with ease. That wasn’t any different with Virgil; he’d just been hesitant to show it.

He saw the flash of headlights pulling up and stood, slipping his hand from Virgil’s. “Are you okay to walk, or do you want me to carry you?” Patton’s mind drifted back to the night that they had first met.

* * *

_He had been trudging home when he saw the figure on the bridge._

_It had been a pretty shit night, if he was going to be honest. Patton had been on his way to his boyfriend’s house, hoping to watch a movie or something, and decided to stop by the park to take a more scenic walk. He walked around the beautiful foliage until he saw them. Luke was sitting on a park bench with his hands needily clawing at another guy as they aggressively made out. It was unbelievable, yet the scene made complete sense. Patton spun on his heel and wandered around town for hours, losing track of time before he finally realized that he needed to head home. On his way, he saw the kid. He ran to the railing, hoping to catch them before they ended their life._

_“Um,” Patton squeaked; his voice sounded weak to his own ears. “Hello? Please don’t jump.”_

_The person spun around so fast—far too fast to be safe while standing on the edge of an impending drop. Their scrutinizing eyes scanned Patton for just a second. “What are you doing here?!”_

_He hadn’t really thought that far. Patton didn’t want them to jump, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t too keen to retell the events of the night. “Um, I, uh, was just walking by and happened to see you here. I don’t want you to jump.”_

_The stranger stared at him for_  one. Two. Three _beats._

_“Look. You have no idea who I am, and I have no idea who you are. You don’t know my intentions, so just go away and leave me here alone.” The harsh tone in the stranger’s voice unsettled something deep in Patton’s stomach. Tears began to drip from his eyes, growing faster and faster until he was flat-out bawling on the sidewalk._

_“What are you doing?” The stranger spat.  “You’re being fucking loud! People are going to start trying to find out what’s happening can you—Fucking_ hell _.” Patton heard the sound of feet on the pavement and immediately tried to wipe up his tears._

_The teen spoke again. “Look. I’m off the ledge. Just stop fucking crying.” That prompted Pat to look up. He saw the hurt in the kid’s eyes and couldn’t bear to take any chances._

_“Promise that you won’t jump off the bridge.”_

_“Yeah, whatever. I won’t jump off,” the kid scoffed, throwing in a complementary eye roll._

_“I said to_ promise _me!” The intensity in Patton’s voice shocked even him._

 _"I—What? Listen—“_  
  
_“Promise me!” Patton yelled. “Promise me that you won’t kill yourself tonight! I don’t care what your reasoning is for doing this, but it’s not good enough! Promise me or I’m going to call the cops and tell them you’re trying to commit suicide, and I_ know _that you don’t want the authorities involved.” It was a low blow, threatening to call the police, but he was pretty desperate at this point. Anything that’d work. He dug his phone out and wiggled it slightly, adding depth to his promise._

_“I–okay, look–I promise I won’t kill myself tonight just please put the phone down. Please, don’t call the police. I promise; I won’t do anything.” The kid’s voice was rushed and breathy. They were struggling to breathe._

Panic attack, _his mind supplied._ Oh no.

_Patton dialed his mom’s number in a heartbeat. He quickly asked her to pick him up at the bridge. There was a flash of movement before a body came slumping into his arms. Pat gently scooped the stranger up._

_And from that moment, Patton had become invested._

* * *

“I can walk.” Virgil wobbled a bit as he stood up, but he did seem to have the strength and energy. As soon as they were in the car, however, Virgil slumped into Patton and curled up, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his… friend?

Pat nearly let out a quiet “awwww” at how cute Virge was.

The whole ride home was silent. No music, no conversation, no nothing. Patton expected that he and his mother would be having a long conversation tomorrow about what had transpired, but that was a thought for another time.

Pat picked up the sleepy Virgil once they’d arrived and carried him slowly up the steps to Virgil’s bedroom. He was once again brought back to their first meeting. He’d gently taken set the stranger on his bed and made sure they were absolutely okay before leaving. Tonight, however, he had a feeling he’d be staying in the room.

He quietly went to his own room for a few minutes so both he and Virgil could change into pajamas. It was almost surprising that Virge was sat up, expectantly—and sleepily—awaiting Patton’s return.

“Do you want me to stay in here tonight?” It was barely a question. Virgil nodded and flopped back, pulling the covers up over his head and curling up. Unlike the first time they’d shared the bed, Patton immediately slipped under the blankets.

The buried Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand and pulled it close as if it were some sort of comfort object. Silently, Patton mused that he’d only be able to retrieve full control of his body by prying himself from Virgil’s cold, dead hands. Soon enough, though, they both fell asleep, blissfully sleeping away any stress.

* * *

Patton woke up in the middle of the night. His body tended to do that--just randomly waking from slumber for no reason in particular. It was irritating, to say the very least.

Pat opened his eyes and saw Virgil’s delicate features just inches away. He was such a good kid. He was such a good  _friend_.

The negative thoughts in his mind overwhelmed him in an instant.  _Oh, god. Oh no. No! No, no, no! I can’t do this. That would be unfair. I’m just going to hurt him. I’m going to hurt him. I can’t do that. I can’t!_

He scrambled back, falling backwards off the bed. Patton stifled a scream with his hand, not wanting to wake Virgil. Of course the intrusive thoughts would come back just when he had something good in his life. Patton wasn’t  _meant_ to be happy.

_You’re not good enough! You’re a terrible person—just like Jason used to tell you! You only hurt; you can’t fix anything. You break everything you touch!_

Tears streamed down his face as he silently ran to his room. He had made a mistake--one that he didn’t know how to fix or even if he  _could_  fix it. He texted the only people he knew could help.

 

> **pattonly-loveable [1:35, read]**
> 
> Guys I really messed up

> **loganch [1:35]**
> 
> Patton, what are you doing up?
> 
> And what did you do?
> 
> Are you okay?
> 
> Do we need to hide a body?

> **princeofthegays [1:35]**
> 
> Are you good????

> **pattonly-loveable [1:35, read]**
> 
> So you know how virgil and I kissed??
> 
> Sorry if you didn’t know, ro
> 
> Anyway
> 
> That’s how I messed up

> **princeofthegays [1:36]**
> 
> First of all, I’m proud of you
> 
> Second, how is that a bad thing? I’m not sure that I understand how love can be bad…

**patton _ly-amazing [1:36, read]_**

_I’m goin_ g to end up hurting Virgil and it’s gonna kill me to see that happen

 

> **loganch [1:37]**
> 
> Patton, that is literally absurd.
> 
> You obviously care for Virgil very much. Even I can see that. You have done nothing but have his best interest at heart since you met him. If you truly believe that you would hurt him, you are as stupid as a rock.

> **princeofthegays [1:37]**
> 
> I’ve gotta agree with the brainiac for once

That didn’t help Patton in the slightest. He still felt off about the whole thing. He didn’t deserve the love that any of them gave him. He was terrible and just not a good person.

He wasn’t worth it.

* * *

_Dear diary,_

_It’s been a long time since I’ve written in here—too long, maybe. I think it’s a good time to do so, though._

_Let’s get things straight. Or rather, not straight. Pretty damn not straight to be honest._

_Virgil kissed me tonight. It was really great. But there’s just something that doesn’t settle right in me._

_I can’t be with him. I ruin everything I touch. I can’t provide the love and care that he needs--I’m useless to him. Not to mention how he’s just going to hate me once he realizes how absolutely pathetic I am._

_Virgil should’ve picked Roman. Ro is smart, charismatic, creative, romantic, and so many other things that I’m just **not!**  He knows how to be a good partner. He can plan dates like the best of them, and he’s never once had a partner cheat on him because he’s just that damn irresistible. Roman is perfect; whereas, I’m the exact opposite. I’m ridiculously stupid (just ask Logan; he had to help me with countless assignments over the years), I’m too shy for my own good, and I take exactly zero risks (see: I’ve wanted to kiss Virgil for so long)!_

_Logan would also be better suited! He’s the smartest of anybody I know, and he’s considerate, thoughtful, and, even though he tries to hide it, **loving**. Logan has done research on every mental illness that he could possibly think of; he’d know exactly what to do in every circumstance Virgil found himself in._

_And me? I just hurt people. I do stupid things without thinking and end up hurting my friends in the process. Nothing I’ve ever done or will ever do will account to anything! I’m **worthless!**  Virgil deserves so much better than what I can give. He’s been hurt too many times before. I can’t. I just  **can’t**._

_\- Patton_


	14. what did you do with my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: kissing, implied making out, non-consentual touching and kissing, abusive ex, toxic relationship, self hate, sex mentions, mentioned threesome, rumors, depression, anxiety, depressive episodes, food mentions, unhealthy coping mechanisms, not eating, isolation, worrying, swearing, anger, yelling, swearing, homophobia, homophobic slurs, possibly something else

**_February 18, 2016_ **

Patton stepped over the threshold into Jay’s house. He’d spent a lot of time there, so it wasn’t being in his boyfriend’s house that was making him anxious; it was the fact that it was the first time they would be  _alone_. Jay had begged him to come, so he’d obliged.

He shook the snow off of his coat and dumped it on the floor next to his boots. “Babe, I’m here!” Pat’s voice echoed lightly in the plastered halls. He heard shuffling a few rooms over and made his way towards the sound. The door swung open, and a half-dressed Jason stood in the doorway. He subconsciously noted the girl sitting on the couch, equally undressed and disheveled.

“Patton. Looking gorgeous as ever,” his boyfriend drawled. His lips were swollen and bright pink.

“What the hell is going on, Jason?” Patton’s voice was hard as he gestured to the scene in front of him. The girl inside stood up and walked to the door, wrapping her slender arms around Jason’s waist.

“He really is as beautiful as you’ve said, Jay. Those eyes truly  _are_  stunning. And you know how  _hot_  I think freckles are. I would have been a fool to refuse your offer.” Her words dripped like honey--uncomfortably slow and thick. Her hand reached out to cup Pat’s cold-tinged cheek, and he flinched back from her touch, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“What offer,  _sweetheart_?” The anger was gone, replaced with a sugary sweet that held no warmth.

Jason gave his signature dashing smile. “I was thinking, right? You’re bisexual; I’m bisexual. And Lauren here has just been  _dying_  to try a threesome. It’ll be fun!”

“ _What?_ ” That was ridiculous! What kind of thought process was that?

“C’mon, babe. I’ve seen your potential; you’d be an  _amazing_  partner in bed!” Jay quirked his eyebrow and pulled Patton closer.

“First of all,” Pat stated as he took a step backward. “You know my feelings on this matter. Second, no! I’m not doing that! We’re fifteen, Jason. Not to mention that you set this all up without even consulting me.”

“And I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d just loosen up a bit and let me show you something actually  _pleasurable_!” 

Patton was about to protest once more when Jason roughly kissed him; his hands fumbled with his belt buckle. On impulse, Pat pushed him back, knocking both Jay and Lauren to the ground in a heap.

“What the hell, Jay?! I said no! What the fuck do you think that means?” The anger was back and more fiery than ever. He was pissed––no, he was  _furious_.

“You fucking moralist! You ruin everything! I went as far as to make this perfect for you, Patton. You’ve done nothing for me, but I’ve done  _everything_  for you.” Jason slowly rose from the floor, redness rising in his face.

“I told you exactly what I was comfortable with from the moment you asked me out! I should have listened to Roman and Logan when they said you were nothing but bad news, but I was swept up by your ‘perfection.’” Patton spat back. He’d reached the end of his rope, and he was taking none of it.

“Those two were so much better than you are! At least they were  _somewhat_  willing to play to my needs; they were never so self centered as to refuse everything I want. Sure, they didn’t go nearly as far as I’d liked, but they’re better than  _you_. You’re  _poisonous_. You’re a bomb just waiting to go off and ruin all of my hard work! Now, either take your clothes off and join us, or we’re breaking up right here and now.” That stung. And for just a moment, Patton ran over the situation in his head. He was so devastatingly close to caving before he came back to his senses.

“Then I guess we’re done.” Patton swiftly put his shoes back on and wrapped his coat tightly around his body, stepping back out into the cold February air.

* * *

All discussion ceased as Patton, Logan, and Roman stepped into Westview. Every pair of eyes turned to them. Specifically Patton. A bright blast of chatter erupted once more, and Patton could glean little bits of conversation from them.

_“I heard that he slept with three guys this weekend!”_

_“Yeah? I heard he had a threesome with some chick from South and Jason Keith!”_

_“Patton Shea is such a slut!”_

_“Not to mention he’s a fag!”_

_Patton Shea. Slut. Patton Shea. Whore. Patton Shea. Slept with three guys in one weekend._

Patton spun around and dashed from the school; Logan and Roman followed close behind. He could hear their furious voices behind him as they walked down the sidewalk to the nearest bus stop.

“I’m going to murder Jason! That dick deserves it! How fucking dare he hurt you like that, Patton; especially after what he did on Saturday,” Roman growled.

“For once I agree with your aggressive sentiments. Patton, you are the sweetest person I know. You deserve so much better.” Logan was normally calm—far too calm for most—but this angered him to the core. Pure hatred seeped from his voice.

Patton stopped and spun around. “Do I, though?” The words hung heavily in the air, and Patton’s voice cracked as he said, “Do I?”

“Of course you do,” Logan gently stated. “You are incredibly kind, generous, and genuine. I have never once known you to do something to hurt another person. Jason, on the other hand, is rude, egotistical, incorrigible, and… and… He’s just awful, okay? You deserve the world, and he deserves to rot in the deepest pits of hell.”

_You break everything you touch._

“You’re wonderful, Pat.”

_Whore!_

“We love you.”

_Poison!_

Patton plastered on a fake smile. “Thanks, guys, really, but you should go to class. I’ll be fine—“

Roman cut him off with one fluid motion. “Yeah, just shut up and let us come with you.”

* * *

Jason’s words never left Patton, but neither did the rumors. As the months passed, they became less prominent, becoming floating leaves in the back of his memory. It wasn’t until much later that they would rear their head again.

_Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will always hurt me._

* * *

**_Present_ **

Virgil paced around his room. He was worried. Patton hadn’t woken up until 11 this morning, which was  _ages_  later than he usual. Then, he had refused any visitors to his room, claiming he was doing mass amounts of homework. Virgil brought him some lunch, but he had been instructed to just leave the plate outside the door for him to get in a moment. Patton wouldn’t even let his  _mother_  in!

It was, quite frankly,  _terrifying_ , and Virgil was glad he’d gotten Logan’s phone number.

> **_Virgil_ **
> 
> _Read [2:32]_
> 
> hey lo its virgil
> 
> im really worried about pat
> 
> he hasn’t come out of his room at all and won’t let any of us come in

> **_Logan_ **
> 
> _Delivered [2:32]_
> 
> Ah. It seems he has entered a depressive spiral. As I’m sure you’re familiar with the feelings, I’ll spare you the details. Just know that it is nothing personal.
> 
> Excuse me for one moment.

Logan immediately went to his text conversation with Patton and began typing.

> **_Logan_ **
> 
> _Read [2:34]_
> 
> Patton. It has come to my concern that Virgil is worried absolutely sick about you. I know that you have been feeling less than subpar today, but I need you to let Virgil in so that you two can work things out. He obviously cares a lot about you, and I know for a fact that you care about him just as much. You are one of my best friends, and it kills me to see you down like this.

As soon as the read symbol popped up, Logan went back to Virgil.

> **_Logan_ **
> 
> _Delivered [2:34]_
> 
> Go talk to Patton. If he doesn’t let you in, text me, and I’ll make him.

Virgil let out a light laugh at that. Logan was so caring and willing to help his friends, but he didn’t know how to do it in the most sensitive way. Just seconds later, he stood in front of Patton’s door. He hesitantly reached out and knocked. The door abruptly swung open, and a gloomy Patton motioned him in.

Virgil immediately took a seat on the bed. “I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I didn’t mean to upset you like this; I just… I wasn’t thinking properly. I’ve been really worried about you all day, and like… I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the reason,” Patton mumbled, pacing along the blue rug on his floor.

“Then why have you been shutting me out all day?” Virgil’s voice was pained; the sound triggered something inside of Pat.

“Because I was trying to avoid this!” Patton gestured wildly at Virgil’s upset expression. “I didn’t want to hurt you, yet here we are! I’m poisonous, Virge. I do nothing but hurt people. I’m the apple from Snow White--sweet and nice at first, but I’ll end up  _killing_  you. You deserve so much better than me! You should have picked Roman or Logan; they’re smarter, nicer, more talented, and so much more. But  _no_! You picked  _me_  of all people. I’m clumsy, stupid, reckless, emotional, and just plain pathetic. I have nothing to offer.” He sat down exhaustedly on the bed, flopping back onto the plush comforter.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding, right? Patton, you’re amazing. You talked a stranger that you had never met before out of suicide just because you wanted to. You let that same stranger into your home and then ended up allowing them to live with you. You are so much more than nothing. If anything, I don’t deserve  _you_. Roman and Logan are both wonderful, but you have something special inside of you.” Virgil fell back, too. There were a few beats of silence before Patton spoke again.

“If you keep talking bad about yourself, I’m going to physically fight you...” Virgil could hear the smile in his voice. He was so glad. He couldn’t bear to live another minute without Patton happy.

“Come at me, bro.”

Virgil felt weight leaving the bed, but he’d only registered it a moment before he was hauled up by the wrists and propelled into a sweet kiss by Patton. He lightly smiled. God, it was good to have someone again. It was even better that said someone wasn’t an asshole.

“So, what are we?” Virgil asked a few moments later, when they had ended their kiss.

“I think the proper term is ‘boyfriends,’” Patton smiled.

“You sound just like Logan.”

“Satisfactory.” Patton let out a small laugh at Virgil’s irritated groan.

“Shut up and kiss me, nerd.”


	15. how the mighty fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentioned panic attack, mentioned depressive episode, depression, anxiety, verbal arguments, insults, kissing, PDA, self hatred, internalized homophobia, mentioned PTSD, food mentions, eating, swearing, anger, yelling, fighting, misunderstandings, crying, possibly something else
> 
> (title from the mighty fall by fall out boy)

Mrs. Shea called Patton down about an hour before dinner. Although he’d expected this conversation, the whole depressive-spiral only made things more stressful.

“So what happened last night, honey?” She took a sip of her tea.

“Virgil had a panic attack, obviously. I think that after the first slow song, the abrupt shift in volume overloaded his brain, and he just needed to get out. He fled pretty soon after, so I went to go calm him down. And then, um…” Patton paused. He was hesitant to share the next part.

“Go on, Pat. Everything you say is completely confidential.”

“Then Virgil kissed me.” Patton’s voice was barely a whisper. The embarrassed heat in his cheeks was nearly unbearable.

“Did you kiss him back? Oh my gosh, is he a good kisser?” Mrs. Shea pressed, a giddy smile on her face.

“ _Mom_!”

“At least tell me tell me that you didn’t leave him hanging.” She wiggled her eyebrows jokingly.

“ _Mother_!”

“Alright, alright,” her voice returned to being serious. “And what about this morning? It’s so unlike you to lock yourself up like that, honey.”

Patton bit his lip. “I overthought things. I got it in my head that I wasn’t good enough for Virgil, so I holed myself away because then I wouldn’t have to deal with it. But then Logan forced me to talk with Virgil, and we had a really good heart-to-heart and ended up making things official.”

There were a few beats of silence. “So did you kiss him?”

“Yes, mom! I kissed my boyfriend!” Patton exploded, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m glad that--unlike Roman and Logan--you two finally got your shit together so I won’t have to deal with your ridiculous heart eyes anymore.” Patton choked on his tea, and Mrs. Shea just shook her head in amused irritation. “Those two are just insufferable! Like, can you imagine crushing that hard on someone without realizing that it was requited? Clueless morons.”

“What?” Patton sharply coughed, trying hard to get a handle on his incident.

“Oh, don’t tell me you can’t see it, too! They never stop staring at each other; it’s disgusting.” She took a gentile sip of her tea, as if she hadn’t said a word.

“No, no! I have; trust me. I didn’t realize that  _you_  noticed. God, and you don’t even have to hang out with them! Roman constantly flirts with Logan, but Lo’s so clueless he doesn’t understand. But, of course, when Logan tries to compliment Roman, Roman takes it as Logan trying to learn slang terms. It’s literal torture!” Patton sighed, leaning forward on his hands. It had been a long time since he’d had a nice chat with his mom, and he had missed it.

“Please, Pat. I’m begging you. Play matchmaker for them. They’ll never get there themselves,” Mrs. Shea said with an air of actual worry in her voice. Roman and Logan were like her sons, and she couldn’t stand the thought of them ending up with someone else and, worse,  _unhappy_.

“I will, mom.”

* * *

“Patton… I know that look, and I don’t like it. What are you planning?” Virgil’s voice was cautious as he caught up with his boyfriend after dinner. Patton had practically leapt from the table; his signature plotting face securely in place.

“Mom gave me an idea,” Patton said simply, rounding the corner and climbing the stairs.

“No shit. I gathered that much, but what is that idea?” He was beginning to get anxious. He didn’t like surprises in the slightest, and this was certainly a surprise.

“It’s about Logan and Roman. After mom and I talked, we realized we needed to do something about them.” Patton swung open his bedroom door and made a beeline for his desk. He grabbed out a notebook and a few pencils before swiveling his second chair around to face Virgil on the bed.

“What do we need to— _Oh!_  Oh my god, no way! That makes so much sense.” The pieces clicked together neatly in Virgil’s mind. He’d seen the little glances and hidden blushing, but he had never taken any notice to them. It made so much  _sense_.

“Exactly! They’re absolutely clueless, so we need to help them figure it out.” Patton titled the page.  _How to Get Two Idiots Together_. Virgil thought that it fit quite well.

“Alright, what do you suppose?”

A sly smile grew on Patton’s face. “Well…”

* * *

By Monday afternoon, all of the blocks had perfectly fallen into place. The group would first go to the diner before heading to the park. It would be  _perfect_.

Logan picked Virgil and Patton up at five o’clock sharp. Roman was only slightly done up; he had a neutral brown smokey eye and deep purple lipstick. He looked wonderful, and Virgil caught Logan glancing at Roman every so often under the cover of checking for traffic. It was odd seeing Logan actively checking someone out, but he couldn’t help but think that it was pretty adorable.

They stepped into the bustling diner about fifteen minutes later, sitting in their normal booth. Patton and Virgil obviously sat on one side, forcing the oblivious duo to the other.  _Phase one initiated._

For the entire five minutes before they had ordered, Virgil and Patton didn’t take their attention off of each other. They giggled at the other’s jokes, lightly kissed when applicable, and even leaned on each other as a gesture of protection. Roman and Logan were left to their own devices. It took a minute, but the two began a quiet discussion about the couple across from them, careful to make sure the others didn’t hear.

“They are truly disgusting,” Roman grimaced. He was the romantic one of the group, but even that PDA was a tad extra.

“Yes. But I am glad that Patton has found someone to be happy with. See the look in his eyes, Ro? He hasn’t looked like that since he started dating Jason,” Logan pointed out, watching as Virgil quickly pressed a kiss to Patton’s lips.

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that jerk!” Roman groaned. “I agree, though. It’s going to be good for him. Ah, it’s been too long since I’ve had someone like that.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Logan spoke again. “Me as well.”

They sat in silence for half of a second before Emilia walked up to their table. “Oh my goodness! Has Patton found himself someone? He looks absolutely adorable, sweetheart!” A bright pink blush formed on both Patton and Virgil’s cheeks, but Virgil’s became even deeper as she said, “Aren’t you going to say something, honey?”

“I—Uh… I’m…” Virgil sputtered. 

Emilia roared with laughter, lightly ruffling the teen’s hair. “I’m kidding. What can I get you?”

They all ordered without incident, but Virgil’s flubbed words weren’t forgotten. “Flustered Virgil is so cute!” Patton squealed, covering his mouth with clenched fists. Virgil pulled his hood over his face and groaned.

“Shut up, Pat,” he muttered from his dismal cavern.

Roman nodded in affirmation.“He’s quite right. But do you know who’s even funnier when they’re caught off guard? Logan! He blushes like mad and ends up just spouting off random scientific factoids,.” He smirked, lightly knocking Logan with his shoulder. The latter blushed fiercely and groaned.

“Roman…” Logan chided gently.

“I’m… sorry!” Roman said between intense bouts of laughter.

“C’mon, kiddo. Let’s not torture Logan.” Patton’s voice was stern, but still loving.

“Fine, fine.” Roman wiped the tears from his eyes and sat back in the booth.

Patton returned his attention to Virgil, reaching his hand under his boyfriend’s hood to gently swipe the hair from his eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Virgil flicked his hood down and nodded. He placed a light kiss on Pat’s cheek to reaffirm that he was, in fact, fine. It was made even better by the fact that Virgil teasingly hovered his face just centimeters from Patton’s with a devilish smirk before pulling away. Patton pouted and turned to look out the window in mock displeasure. Virgil worriedly put his hand on Pat’s shoulder, not quite sure if Patton was joking. Logan and Roman both caught the flash of a smile on Patton’s face before he spun around and kissed Virgil on the nose.

“Absolutely vile,” Roman muttered.

“As if you wouldn’t be doing the same thing if you were in their situation,” Logan retorted with a pointed eyebrow raise. Ro dramatically turned to face his booth partner; their faces ending up just barely apart. A flicker of realization flitted across Roman’s features as soon as he took in how close they were. It was microscopic, unnoticeable to the untrained eye, but Virgil and Patton saw it.

Their satisfaction, however, was cut short by the food arriving. The four friends munched quietly, barely talking at all. Well, except for when Virgil and Roman threw jabs—and often French fries—at each other. When that happened, it was all-out chaos.

Less than an hour later, Logan pulled into the gravel parking lot of their favorite park, parking all the way at the end of the nearly empty space. Most families were already back home to have dinner, so they’d pretty much have the place to themselves. Patton excitedly led the group, dragging a less than energetic Virgil to all of the prettiest spots of the park.

“This is the strangest feeling; it's as if I’m a parent who is proud of their child for finding someone they’re happy with,” Logan mused as he walked along the winding paths with Roman. It was near impossible to keep up with Excited Patton—a lesson that Virgil was learning  _very_  quickly—and the two decided it be best to save their energy for when they had to carry Tired Patton to the car.

“I feel the same way. Our boy is growing up so fast!” Roman paused for a few steps. “I wish I had something like that—a relationship, I mean.”

Logan flat out laughed at that. Was he fucking kidding? “Roman, you can have literally anyone you want, and all you’d have to do is say ‘go!’”

“It’s not that simple,” Roman mumbled. It really wasn’t. He  _couldn’t_  have the one person that he wanted. He wasn’t Logan’s type at all; he was infuriatingly dumb and all over the place, not neat and smart like who Logan wanted.

~~Not cis, either, and although Logan had been so accepting when he’d come out, it wasn’t like cis gay guys were suddenly going to jump at the chance to date DFAB dudes with PTSD.~~

“I’m not following. You have everyone drooling over you, yet you can’t have who you want?” Logan’s face grew puzzled, contemplating the evidence.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Roman’s voice sounded dismissive, but he didn’t mean it that way. He was frustrated in himself. He couldn’t own up to his own feelings and tell Logan.  _No_. Of  _fucking_  course not.

“What do you mean I wouldn’t understand? I’m not some kindergartener to whom you’re trying to explain basic multiplication! I can figure things out, Roman, even if I’m not great with feelings,” Logan snapped, stopping dead in his tracks. Roman stopped, too, and spun to face his friend.

“Can you, Logan? Because sometimes you’re as perceptive as the dirt on the bottom of your shoe! It’s infuriating that I can’t get my thoughts through to you, of all people!” Roman roughly jabbed at Logan’s chest. He knew he shouldn’t be acting so rashly, but he was far too frustrated and angry to stop himself.

Thoughts swirled around Logan’s mind as he tried to formulate something intelligent to say. How in the world had he fallen for someone as rude as Roman  _fucking_  Patrick? He really was an idiot, wasn’t he? It was ridiculous to have thought that he’d be able to get past the prickly sarcasm to see Roman’s caring nature.

A sickening cackle escaped Logan. “That’s  _rich_  coming from you! I can’t believe you’d say something like that about your best friend of five years.” He shook his head in anger. “I’m done with this. You three can walk home for all I care.”

It took a few seconds for the fight to register in Roman’s brain, and by then, he had been left staring at Logan’s retreating figure. What the fuck had he done? He slowly turned and began walking down the trail towards Virgil and Patton’s voices. He’d ruined  _everything_.

The moment that Virgil saw Roman’s expression, he started to feel anxious. He hadn’t known the guy for too long, but he could clearly tell that something was up. “Dude, are you okay? Where’s Logan?”

_You can’t tell them the truth! They’ll hate you._

“Logan and I had a disagreement, and he got so pissed that he decided to bail.” 

Roman looked more upset than he let on, but Virgil didn’t push. He knew what it was like to want to keep some things to himself.

“Well, I suppose we should call someone to pick us up. Roman, do you want my mom to drop you off at home?” Patton asked, already pulling out his phone.

“No, I’m just going to walk home. See you guys tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Virgil agreed, nodding his goodbye.

* * *

Roman quietly closed his bedroom door, shutting himself off from the world. He slipped into his pajamas and sat lightly on the edge of his bed. The tears ran down his cheeks like tiny raindrops on a car window. He buried his face into his pillow and cried until sleep finally absorbed his consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roman isn’t out as trans to virgil yet, jsyk!


	16. (un)comfortably numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: kissing, past fights, awkwardness, anxiety, shouting, arguments, guilt, swearing, possibly something else
> 
> (title references comfortably numb by pink floyd)

Logan didn’t want to pick Roman up, but he couldn’t just ditch him. He felt bad about leaving his friends yesterday, and he didn’t need that kind of guilt. The beat up car rolled to a halt in the Patrick’s driveway.

Roman was already standing outside, clicking away at his phone. He slipped into the front seat without looking up, only taking time to readjust his headphones. That’s  _fine_ ; Logan actually enjoyed driving in silence.

* * *

Virgil and Patton immediately knew that something was  _off_. It was completely silent in the car, which might have been fine if Roman had been absent, but he was not. Not only that, but Roman didn’t even look up from his phone to greet his friends like normal.

The whole car ride was  _painful_ ; the weighted silence sat heavily on the two boys in the backseat. Just when they couldn’t take another second of it, Logan pulled into his parking spot. 

 _Thank god._  Virgil sighed, slumping back slightly in his seat.

“Hey, guys—And they’re gone…” Patton called after Roman and Logan, but they had practically bolted from the car as soon as it was stopped. Okay? Maybe they were just having an off day! That’s fine; it happens to everyone.

Virgil shrugged the whole situation off, too, as soon as Patton grabbed his hand and lead him into school. They hadn’t officially announced that they were a thing yet, but it was pretty obvious. Word spread quickly without them needing to do much else but hold hands in the hallway and kiss each other on the cheek at their lockers. It was already old news by Monday afternoon.

Of course, nothing was ever really as simple as it was made out to be.

* * *

Lunch started off just as weird as the car ride to school. Logan had sat opposite of Roman, something they hadn’t done in… well, ever. That, in turn, forced Virgil to sit next to Logan and Patton next to Roman. It was disorienting to Virgil, and he already could feel his anxiety rise. He needed a distraction.

“Hey, Roman. How’s it going with the cast?” The musical. A perfect subject to talk about with his geek friends.

“Fantastic!” Roman said with an enthusiastic smile. “If everything keeps running as smoothly as it has, we’ll be off book by Friday.”

“Surprising that you numbskulls even know how to read,” Logan muttered, not even looking up from his book. An oppressive silence hung in the air between the four boys; although, Logan didn’t seem to notice. Patton threw a worried glance at Virgil. Okay, maybe it’s a bit more than an off day, but nothing a little time can’t fix. 

_Right?_

* * *

The car ride home was when everything truly hit the fan.

It had started just as the ride this morning, but Patton decided to break the silence and talk to Logan. “Hey, Lo. How’s it going?”

“Fine, Patton. Why are you asking me at the end of the day?” Logan gave him a quizzical look in the rear view mirror before turning his eyes back on the road.

“It’s never too late to ask a friend how they’re doing! You’re so smart that sometimes I worry you take on too much.” Patton’s voice was sincere, but he was mostly just trying to figure out what was going on between the two up front.

Roman muttered something under his breath, barely even audible, but it obviously hit a nerve in Logan. “Oh? Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Roman?”

“Sure,” Roman challenged. “I said that you were as dull as a pair of old scissors. You couldn’t cut your way out of a paper box.”

That’s  _really_  not good.

Patton quickly handed Virgil some headphones before the fighting got too out of hand and tried to interject, but the boys were already too heated to listen.

“You son of a bitch! I have never met someone as narcissistic as you. I can’t believe you’d say something like that.”

“Don’t you fucking call me narcissistic! Have you ever heard yourself speak? Your ego is so inflated you’re at risk of it popping.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Look-At-My-Twenty-Trophies. Didn’t realize that I couldn’t be happy about getting good grades!”

“I swear to god, Logan! You’re thicker than molasses.”

“Says you!”

“ _ENOUGH!_ ” Patton yelled, finally reaching his limit. “I will not allow two of my best friends to have a screaming match in this tiny metal deathtrap! You’re half a second away from causing Virgil to have a panic attack. Think about that for a second. How awful must you have to be to completely disregard the well-being of one of your close friends just because you’re pissed off? I’m disappointed in you.”

 _Disappointed_. Patton’s least favorite word, but he had to use it. Roman and Logan knew so much better, yet they still acted recklessly.

“I’m sorry, Patton,” Logan mumbled, moving to park the car on the side of the street. It was obvious they’d be having a “talk.”

Both boys in the front looked meek and ashamed, which was a strange sight. Virgil gently pulled out his headphones, noticing the silence blanketing the car. Roman and Logan turned back in their seats and gave him sorry smiles. He just furrowed his brows in return. He didn’t like this at  _all_.

“What the hell is happening between you guys? Just two days ago you were, like, postcard best friends, and now you loathe each other with your entire existence? Is there something I’m missing here?” Virgil’s voice was becoming more rapid as he spoke, mirroring the rising anxiety he felt.

“It’s my fault!” Roman blurted. “I started it. It’s my fault.”

“What happened, Ro?” Patton coaxed softly.

“Yesterday at the park I… I snapped. I wasn’t angry at Logan, not really; I was more frustrated with myself because… because…” Roman buried his head in his hands. “Because I’m too afraid to tell Logan that I like him.”

Logan froze in his seat, staring wide-eyed. “Oh… I… Um, wow.”

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid. I just… Yeah. Forget it, Logan,” Roman mumbled. 

“No! I was just going to say that I... like you, too.”

“Awwwww!” Patton squealed, but he quickly clamped his hands across his mouth. The two in front exchanged a look before bursting out laughing. It was just so  _Patton_.

“So are you guys gonna kiss or what?” Virgil asked lazily. Internally, he was cheering them on, but he didn’t want to push too hard. Pat jokingly hit him on arm.

“I mean, if you want to, Roman.” Logan’s cheeks were dusted light pink, and he hadn’t really recovered from Ro’s confession.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted to kiss you for years! Come here, you nerd.” Roman reached out and tugged on Logan’s tie, pulling him closer until finally they met in a soft kiss. It took all Patton had in him to not squeal at the adorable scene in front of him. It was just! So!  _Cute_!

Both Logan and Roman were bright pink when they pulled apart. Virgil probably would’ve laughed if he hadn’t worried about Roman murdering him.

* * *

After Logan dropped Virgil and Patton off, he began the ride to his and Roman’s neighborhood. It was… strange. Actually acquiring what he had yearned for that suddenly was such an odd occurrence. It was fantastic, of course. Just different.

“I’m sorry for everything I said to you.” Roman rubbed at the back of his neck nervously.

“I accept your apology. And I do see where you were coming from, regardless of how exaggerated your claims were. I can be extremely behind when it comes to feelings,” Logan waved him off. It was over and done. He didn’t really mind anymore.

“That doesn’t excuse that I said what I did. So, as repayment, I propose we go to the park and have a remake date. Tomorrow,” Roman suggested.

Logan nodded as he pulled into Roman’s driveway. “Satisfactory. Make sure Virgil and Patton know the plans.”

“Of course! Goodbye, my love!” Logan just rolled his eyes and watched Roman deeply bow.

“Bye, Roman.”


	17. take over, the break's over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: minor injury, food mentions, eating, nightmares, graphic depictions of injury/harm, screaming, insults, mentions of a will, mentions of abusive family members, anxiety, depression, possibly something else
> 
> (title from the fall out boy song)

“Mom! Mommommommommom!  _Moooooom!_ ” Patton yelled as he sprinted through the halls to the kitchen. Virgil followed at a more leisurely pace. He laughed softly when he heard the sharp thud as Pat slipped and fell in a heap.

When they had both entered the room, Mrs. Shea was already waiting for the news. “We did it!” Patton exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air with excitement.

“No way! That’s amazing! We need to celebrate ASAP—are Roman and Logan busy tonight?” It was now obvious to Virgil where Patton had gotten his excitability and gestures from; his mother was just as much of an open book with expressions.

“Not sure. Virgil can you text them?” Patton didn’t even look back for an answer, already knowing Virgil was sending a text. They all talked for the few minutes it took to get a response, recounting their harrowing tale.

“They’ll be here in ten minutes, apparently,” Virgil said, glossing over the ridiculously long response. Who the hell even used “infinitesimal” in a text?

“Great. Is pizza good for dinner? I really don’t feel like—“ Patton and Virgil’s aggressive nods stopped Mrs. Shea in her tracks. “Alright. Pizza it is.”

Thirty minutes later, everyone was sat in the living room, which a space that Virgil had actually never been in before, with their own box of pizza. Patton sat on the floor with Virgil’s head in his lap, absently playing with his boyfriend’s hair, and Logan and Roman were cuddled on the couch. Everyone had worn comfy clothes--even Logan, who had originally claimed that sweat pants and a T-shirt were “unprofessional,” but a stern look from Roman swayed him just this once.

“I’m so glad you guys finally stopped the pining!” Mrs. Shea laughed. Logan nearly choked on his slice of pizza. “What? You guys were hopelessly in love with each other, but you both too ignorant to realize it. We all knew it.”

“Mom, a little subtlety never hurt,” Patton reprimanded, but he was laughing at Logan’s response, too.

“I’m just glad you’re all happy, hon. You boys are my kids.”

* * *

_The curtains opened. No lights went on, no music played, and no costumes were on the actors. The booth was empty, save for Virgil in his Stage Manager chair. Although he was Sound Lead, he had other techies run the board._

_Roman stepped up to the front of the stage, stopping just before the opening for the pit, and an unimpressed expression spread across his face. It was antagonistic, seeping into every one of Virgil’s bones and chilling him. He opened his mouth to speak. “This is your fault,_ Bad Plasmius _! You didn’t do your job, and everyone else has to pay for it. Look at these disappointed audience members!” Roman gestured to the house, where hundreds of people filled the seats. Not a single one was empty._

_“No! I-I made all the preparations! I’ve been making sure everything is on schedule; we should be good to start spiking the stage by Tuesday!” Virgil’s voice seemed dim to his ears, as if he were listening through water._

_“That time has come and gone, Virgil. It’s your._ Fault _!” Roman jumped into the pit, and Virgil tried to reach out to stop him, but found himself falling backwards instead. He screamed, but no sound came out._

 _Then, suddenly, he was standing backstage. No—he was_ on _the stage. The actors surrounded him, reaching out their arms and tearing at his clothing. Sharp fingernails ripped into his clothes and skin. Virgil bit back another scream as he felt blood start to ooze from his arms and legs and face._

* * *

“Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?” Patton’s voice warbled in his mind, echoing in his ears.

“Wh-what happened?” Virgil hoarsely asked. He tried to sit up but was spontaneously hit by a wave of vertigo. His head hit the pillow softly as Patton continued to lean over him.

“I think you had a nightmare. I heard you screaming and came right away. God, I thought someone had broken in,” Patton mumbled. He ran a hand through his hair before standing up. “I’m going to grab you some water; don’t you dare move!”

Virgil obliged, laying completely still in his bed. It had all felt so  _real_. Even though he knew opening night was still a few weeks away, he couldn’t help but feel panicked by his dream. Everything was riding on him. What if he messed up? What if there was a disaster opening night, and they couldn’t go on? So many “what if”s that would all be blamed on him.

He swallowed his worry as soon as Patton slipped through the door again. Virgil plastered a weak smile onto his face and graciously accepted the glass of water. He took a few tiny sips before placing the cup on the nightstand. When Pat slid into the bed, Virgil just cuddled up to his boyfriend and let go of his anxiety.

He tried to, at least.

* * *

The four boys ended up planning their make-up date for Friday. As soon as school was let out for the weekend, they piled into Logan’s car and drove to the diner. Emilia, perceptive as ever, was immediately able to see the newest relationship in their group.

“My, my! You boys are all just bundles of joy. I’m very proud of you.” All four at the table blushed. Emilia was one of the most genuine people any of them had ever met, and it was an honor to gain her blessing.

“Thanks, Em! So, can we get the usual?” Roman pressed. He was hungry, which was  _truly surprising_. The kid was like an endless void that constantly needed an energy source to stop it from whining incessantly. Incessantly.

“Of course.” A silence blanketed their table as Emilia went back to the kitchen. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it wasn’t free of tension, either.

“So,” Virgil started. “I got an email from my dad’s secretary today…”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Logan worried, gnawing lightly at the skin of his thumb. Without hesitation, Roman grabbed his boyfriend’s hands in his own to prevent any bloody messes.

“I mean, it’s not bad per se… but, uh… Here, just read the email.” Virgil slid his phone to the center of the table.

> _**To: vthomas@gmail.com** _
> 
> _From: nathalieweber@thomasindustries.com_
> 
> _Subject: Daniel Thomas’ Will_
> 
> As of May 4, 2017, upon Daniel Thomas’ death, all of his possessions will be given to his distant daughter Lily Andrews. Virgil Thomas will no longer receive anything from his father. The updates to this will have been overseen by Judge Raleigh Burns.

The three boys stared at Virgil as soon as they’d finished reading. He averted his gaze and tangled his headphones in his hands.

“I guess I have a sister. I’ve never heard of her, and, like, I don’t even know where she  _lives_!” Virgil gestured wildly for a moment before resting his head on the table in exasperation.

“Sweetheart, I know this situation with your dad is really stressful, but we’ve just gotta take it one step at a time. How about we worry about this tomorrow morning and enjoy our date for now?” Patton ran his hand gently down his boyfriend’s back.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s just have fun.”


End file.
